The two BIG days are nearly over for 2010.

Well, Mother's Day has come and gone and I have managed to not suffer depression. (Remember Depession is merely anger without enthusiasm! Thanks to Good Quotes.com) See I can't even dredge up the energy for my own witty repartee! Unlike my dear mentor Maxine I did not resort to a bottle of wine, or indeed any alcohol. That would have been a dangerous move, especially given how fraught the household has been lately. I was given my favourite gift and am really grateful for it, but it strikes me that my son's father popped in the shop and parted with the cash... The card just doesn't seen like the usual ones selected by my son... (they tend to have very sharp sarcascastic yet funny tag lines)... this one was a tad soppy!

So I guess my son saying he HATES birthdays and all the other celebrations, decided to include Mother's Day in his boycot this year. What is about males that can't see that even token gestures are better than none at all? And despite the commerialism, as a Mum, it is actually the one day of the year when we can be thanked for just being there. So much for that idea.

So, without getting drunk, how did I celebrate?

A television marathon of crap. Foxtel didn't even schedule one single women's movie or chick flick... I guess only LOSER MUMS would be sitting at home with the TV.... Yep, that sounds about right.

Add to this no specially-prepared meals. My son played his usual MRPG game schedule and ate in his room, and I alone in the lounge... not alone I was with the cats... How clicheed is that? Cats and TV?

the best bit...Mother's Day watching three hours of Love's Labours Lost from the Globe Theatre in London... oh well, I could pretend I was in London if nothing else.

Even the night didn't pan out. I had hoped to go to see a comedy benefit in Brunswick to raise funds for battling racism against asylum seekers but I could not motivate myself to go out alone.

So early to bed... after watching the last episode of Stephen Fry in America.

His doco on Bi Polar is on again on Wednesday on the BIO network. I wish I could watch it again as I usually come away motivated and determined to live well... but wouldn't you know Wednesday night is supposed to be the delayed 21st dinner with son, his father, his ex-boss and wife.

Great, after the last verbal tirade I am really looking forward to Chinese food I mostly cannot eat (seafood anaphylaxis) and me the designated driver. Oh fun!

Which brings me to the second andEVEN BIGGER DAY. Today, my son turns 21 and of course didn't want a party, or any such waste of money. He did willingly accept the iphone a few weeks ago, I notice... and the ongoing monthly prepay account. Hmmm..."methinks he doth protest too much."

Then this morning just so he didn't have to go to his TAFE without so much as an acknowledgement of the day, I rose and had a small token gift for him to open. He was too late and shrugged... when I come home eh? So much for that.

This will not go well either. I bought some clothing from a surf shop and now that shop has closed down. What were my son's sizes some weeks ago seem to be one size too small now! Great, let's remind him he has put on weight. Great call Mother! Also added a book he would have loved in another career incarnation... but not now.

Missed the whole thing really, so tonight will again be fraught... perhaps alcohol is the way ahead on this occasion.

His father is not home and has already done the... "poor me... to think I am here to see him turn 21... I thought I would be dead by now". Instead of great, we both (son & I) knew you would make it, I looked at him in disbelief... yep WE WERE BOTH THERE when the heart surgeon announced six months in 2001 and we went into debt to get the males to Italy for the big family goodbye!

Speaking of being self-obsessed... over this last fortnight I have put on 1 1/2 kgs!!! Emotional eating! So I feel like shit. Bring on Wednesdays hypnotherapy... I need you Caroline.

Tonight son and I are on our own for THE 21st (with FAT CLOTHES!) which seems actually more realistic and logical... but I am unsure whether to go all out as it would be me 'wasting money again' like the 'illogical c..t' I was called last week.


As a fall back I have made chocolate mousse... please set!

Remember when you look at the suburban houses with their manicured lawns, a dysfunctional family like mine is probably sheltering inside behind the drawn curtains.

"Suburbia - where they cut down trees and name streets after them."

Pretty in Pink

Just when I thought I was in for one of those weekends, I wake to a wonderful image on the front of the newspapers. To see 14,000 people prepared to pay $50 and brave the Melbourne winter to raise money and awareness for breast cancer just re-affirms to me there are wonderful people in our community. How I would like to know more of such people. They are self-less and caring and prepared to back their beliefs all the way.

It takes some doing to travel to, parkthe car and attend the MCG on a cold Friday night. Well done all.

I should have joined you instead of sitting home and weeping because my plans went awry.I'm sure that the evening at work was quite entertaining but perhaps it would not have been as uplifting as going by train to the MCG. I'm sure they would have accepted a cheque and I could have covered it on Monday. Thus I would not have had to sit at home being berated for my selfishness and falling into a childish sulk.

I would willingly have spent this $50, as I probably would have had to spend that just to go to the work 'do' ($25 fuel, $10 tolls, $20 alcohol and then perhaps some food to soak up the damage.)

The thing that sticks in my craw [what's a bloody craw???] is that despite my tears and tantrum last night at missing the 'do', I would not have been missed.

It was more about me reaching out to feel connected than actually celebrating the occasion.

Perhaps I need to disconnect even further, emotionally.

Whilst my work colleagues have been supportive, there is room for only the occasional 'basket case' moment per friendship group. It is tiresome to always be worrying about an acquaintance, and that is all I will ever be out there. Deeper friendships require a common belief system, common social and political views and intrinsic ethical similarities. I can now honestly say, apart from sharing a work space and numerous laughs, I am often the odd-one out. AGAIN!!

I seem to take life 'too seriously', and do not adhere to the Aussie drinking and smoking culture. I am more happy sitting in a restaurant/ bistro sharing a good bottle of wine over stimulating conversation than sitting chugging down drinks whilst seeing who can come up with the sharpest put-down lines. Whereas lately I have happily worn being the brunt of many jokes... I am getting over that. I need to feel valued for who I am.

My body, illness and age are not going to be the subject of cheap jibes any more. Yes my calves are large but hey, I am working on it! Are you similarly striving to improve your health? How long have I sat on this little hurt? Months!

So in the cold hard light of a new day, I can see another chapter of my life drawing to a close. I just wish I had a sneak preview of what lies ahead. Is a new door beginning to creak open? If so where?

It is so hard to trust that all your efforts are not wasted and that the time spent will come together.

It certainly felt like all my skills were going to be recognised in the communications dept at work but that did not happen. I was caught up in the excitement of the promises and possibilities but there was no actual existing emloyment.

Also, I feel that my work skills remain undervalued within the public sector, yet I am too frightened to step outside the comfort zone of 'the ivory tower'.... and a regional one at that.


It is surprising just how much my self-esteem has fallen since being an 'at-home' Mum. is it any wonder I became morbidly obese... I hated myself. I wanted this 'no-body' to just disappear or die.

I am aware how dangerous it is to attach one's self-worth to employment and career, having made this mistake before in the '80s, but it seems to be a lesson I am very slow to learn.

In the same way I must take care not to define myself through a lack also, the lack of a significant other. Interestin this lack of partner is also held up in sharp focus at work... hmmmm, I wonder what that is telling me? Economically, I mean?

When I venture down the Main Street of Sorrento I get sharp pangs of jealousy as I see the 50ish couples sharing their Saturday morning lattes in the sunshine at the various cafes. These people dress well, in casual chique leisure-wear, read the broadsheets and generally seem so comfortable in their skin and with each other.

It is my fantasy, to have such a relationship, and the economic freedom to indulge in this past-time in one of my favourite locations (out of holiday season).

How can I become comfortable with who I am and not focus on what I do not have?

My wellness routine must find a way to deal with loneliness and I need to develop more resiliance. I have spent the last 30 odd years defining myself by what I do, or by the role I have... "sole-parent, welfare-Mum, single-mother, fat-Centrelink slob" , failure at relationships". Yet I want to be seen for who I am. Caring, giving, concerned, with a social conscience, commitment to equity and justice, and above all.. FEMININE!

Am I asking too much?

Why does this not seen 'enough'... after all I am physically healthy.

Unlike the people at the MCG last night whose lives have been touched by illness and tragedy, at least with my illness I am a survivor.

Another missed post yesterday...

This time it was understandable. I did not even turn the pc on before leaving the house. It was a Court visit day and everything was sort of 'on hold'. It is very easy to underestimate the stress such an ocurrence can have on everyone, the actual participant/defendant and the family. It seems that as a woman I will always be decsribed as emotional and over-reacting. Okay, my illness can have that effect but I am also allowed the usual extremes of emotion that non-Bipolar people have in these situations.

How is it that males, in particular, do not see how difficult it is to 'read' the silences and gaps in a person's conversation, especially when the actions are totally out of sync with the words? It is tiring constantly having to guess what is the correct response and course of action. You are often damned if you do the 'right' thing and damned if you make a faux pas.

In the end I have to trust my instinct and take on the chin any expressions of anger, hostility and judgement that ineviatbly flows my way. I must be able to understand that often the only safe release valve is to 'pay out' on your nearest and closest relation... after all, isn't that a way of testing steadfastness?

How long does one have to prove oneself? When does the male take ownership of his emotional baggage? Is there an age, or does it depend on life experiences? When does tough love backfire? Having used that before has that coloured and damaged my relationship now? Because I wasn't there before... how can anyone be certain I am actually 'there' emotionally and spiritually? Why does all this emotional caretaking fall on the shoulders of women in families? And when we buckle under the weight of these expectations and demands, we are irrational and hysterical.

Ah hysteria... thanks Dr Feud for the bad wrap.

Part of my wellness program is to really dig deep and monitor my emotional highs and lows, yet this becomes so very confronting and even exhausting. Today after yesterday's ordeal I could barely rise from bed this morning. I just wanted to cover up under the doona and pretend the world didn't exist.

I managed to use a whole morning doing exactly this, until I rose, showered and set about making a cake to mark a wonderful liberation from the justice system for a colleague and friend. But wouldn't you know it... the cake failed. And I did what any self-respecting woman would do... I cried. Yep, over the bloody cake.

Then I cried because I didn't have enough cash to buy another, or time to bake another.

I showered again and dressed to the nines to attend the party. After much primping and arguing with clothes which drew attention to where I still have weight left to lose, I decided on a reasonable looking mode of attire. all the time another work colleague's flippant comment about my calves being bigger than she has thought hung ominously in the air... Despite a 40 kg loss my body image problems are still evident... and I cried again.

Back to bathroom, reapply mascara, and get emotionally prepared to join the outside world. But of course my son is late home with the car and has used the petrol needed for my outing. And I have no cash until Monday, and he has only $10, not enough to make the return trip.

What follows is a tirade in which I am called an illogical c..., who never has any money and how stupid to drive to Lilydale just to do social things. Who needs to waste money so blatantly... yep, that pressed that 'bad parent' button again.

Around and around goes the argument that having miscalculated my cash situation was not the issue. I indeed had a right to go where I want, when I want in MY car, with no need for explanation or justification. Why should I have to defend myself? Part of my wellness is to maintain some semblance of normalcy and that includes meeting up with former work colleagues occasionally. Yet, not in my home. It is a waste of money... MY BLOODY MONEY... I put the tank of petrol in the car in readiness... the tank full that my son used going to his educational institution! Of course that is a priority also, but why do I always feel I must sacrifice myself.

So hours have passed, teas fallen... AGAIN, then the child's father gets home and buys into the act. Next we have all out war over the coming 21st birthday. According to my son, again a waste of money when no c...s have a cent at the end of each week.

I pay the bills and budget for things like Christmas and birthdays so my son (and his father) never miss out on what other normal families have.... yet again I am the STUPID ILLOGICAL C..T. Not only that, I nam condemned for organising a dinner for my son with his ex-boss and his wife, along with the three of us. That's a waste on money too. Given that said 'wife' and I are political opposites and many, many topics of conversation offend me and make me want to stand up and fight... I am then called a hypocryte for even pretending to be polite on such an occasion. Apparently, I should be HONEST and not go or organise this birthday outing. So I am irrational, illogical and a hypocryte. Geesh... good evening after yesterday huh?

So needless to say, I shower again, removed the streaked make-up and unsoiled social attire, wash the product out of my hair and retire to my study, like a good sensible poor person!

Can you now see how it is possible to move from a 0 to -2 then +2 THEN CRASH BACK DOWN to -4. The cycles are not daily or weekly, at times of extreme stress they can be this unpredictable... So here I sit at keyboard, again crying and feeling sorry for myself.

If I had enough petrol, I would just run away... ah but to where? That's exactly how I can get myslef into all sorts of trouble. So I am now going to return to the beloved sanctuary of the doona, and attempt a relaxtion excercise. And if that fails the wondrous sleeping tablet.

Can someone give me strength to know which way ahead through the 21st birthday nightmare!

Inspiration for today

Okay it's not my own words but it is exactly where my focus is this week, especially today. When all my 'personal environments' are listed, is it any wonder that I feel out of control on so many fronts, and how an excess of pressure/distress in any of these sends all my best laid plans and resolutions out the proverbial window?

http://workincolour.com.au/blog/post/64/succeed-dont-fail/

At last I can stop berrating myself. It is not that I have no willpower... it is just that I am not thinking clearly and determining (or valueng) the most urgent front on which to invest my emotional and physical energy... Inevitably the PhD will often seem off the radar in the mix. How normal is that? Rather than mentally despair, I just need a more holistic overview and maintain my mental strength and wellness.
(Tomorrow is a big day after all and the lead up has been energy sapping).

I also need to feel confident that when everything is under control (to an extent) then I can achieve at the highest level academically... and maybe there are days and even weeks when this is not humanly possible! This being one of them.

Wonder women....

I guess today has been one of those days when life seems to be art. I can now see how all my experiences from meeting a diverse group of women throughout my periods of hospitalisation, has shaped my understanding of women characters. The very essence of these women are beginning to find their place inside the lives of my fictional characters. When these real life women speak, their stories are those of my characters. It is what makes my artefact work (my PhD novel) so difficult to pull together.

On the one hand I have this need to be true to the people whose lives have driven me to commit them to paper. Yet, I also need to strive for verisimilitude and realism. This means that I am cannibalising all my lived experiences and interpersonal interactions. I feel guilty that I am 'using' people and exploiting their moments of vulnerability... yet somehow this vulnerability strikes me as being the essence of Everywoman's experience. I have capitalised the E to draw comparisons to the medieval mystery plays' Everyman.

I am attempting to get onto paper the very essence of male/female relationships and the inherent miscommunication and misunderstandings that come to the fore during periods of crisis and stress.

Whilst I sit here at the keyboard I can pontificate and even generalise as suits my purpose as 'narrator' yet I know that as people read these words and those of my novel I need them to identify and even feel that I have 'stolen' from their stories. the essence has to be THAT REAL for my linear plot development to hang together.

I guess this is why my PhD supervisor is asking me to think about utilising fictocritism as my guiding frame.

"Creative nonfiction differs from fiction because it is necessarily and scrupulously accurate and the presentation of information, a teaching element to readers, is paramount. Creative nonfiction differs from traditional reportage, however, because balance is unnecessary and subjectivity is not only permitted but encouraged." Guttkind 1997.

So for the sake of 'scrupulous accuracy' I must use my experience from the talking therapy sessions with my co-patients but must also divorce the key issues and themes from the personal spaces. I need to take a type of Brechtian approach, in that my very selectivity is the space where the author speaks, and where I would contend the TRUTH is revealed in all its' subjective glory. It is my notion of TRUTH and my reading of women's experience based on years of research fieldwork, if you will. My mind is trawling through virtual diary notes and interview transcripts to create the WOMAN'S lived experience in text.

So when I discuss the fact that from my perspective I can easily see how the psychological term hysteria came to be gendered according to female anatomy and biochemistry. What I can also see is how the patriarchy used it to denigrate women's emotions and reactions to stressful situations.

I have seen today, just how many women are totally distressed by their familial relationships and domestic expectations and the price they pay for this societal pressure is personally immense and damaging. One could almost state that Depression seemes intrinsically linked to the middle-class female role in C21st Australia, but that would be to ignore that men do suffer from role pressures and mental illness.

Are women more vulnerable to the disconnect between expectations (familial, social and self) and actual roles in life than men?

If so, why?

To me from my observor/particpant-viewpoint, perhaps the very brain chemistry (or neurological wiring) which enables women to multi-task, and to have more prominantly developed communication areas of the cerebral cortex complete with 'more traffic' crossing the corpus callosum is responsible for some type of neurological 'blackout' or 'short'? Is that the medical the basis for the stress overload so often articulated by women in hospital? Is there actual research on this? If so I need to find it.

These ideas and questions need to be carefully thought through as I write my way through this gender minefield. Watch this space.... I need another 'ablution breakthrough illumination'.

Two full days to go...

Well this symbolises my attitude today. I have been to THAT meeting at Hawthorn which is enough to turn your stomach... the generation gap is so profound that the ideology at play is quite discomforting. Why do humans (mostly male) seek hierarchical power for their own agendas? Luckily there were some intelligent (meaning they agreed with me) young men at the Roundtable.

We even had a visit by a member of staff from Strategic Planning and Governance to trial a student survey of Teaching and Learning quality and student (client) expectations....Where do these supposed experts get off?

Firstly, the wording of the questionaire was appalling, and bureaucratic.
Next, the way the possible replies were structured forced answers towards the positive scale ( 4 out of 5 possible responses), and there was of course no room to expand on your 'value' attributed to each 'quality'.

If this doesn't scream blatant attempt to gain statistics for marketing purposes I'll go 'he'.

Also concerning is that all of a sudden when the Feds decide to tie funding to excellence in teaching the bureaucrats and middle level admins decide they need quantitative stats as measures... after all they need only take a moment to analyse when there are so few questions and permuations of answers. What a load of crap. What worries me is these people seem oblivious to the whole inadequacy of their research methodology to actually measure the 'real' situation... or they are too scared to do so and publicise the outcome? That would mean decisions and bucks needing to stop being passed.

Next came a trip to Lilydale which seems to be an isolated little haven, so detached from the 'POWER HUB' of decision-making.

Yet the 'haven' imagery is a deceptive smoke screen.

How can anything be achieved on a policy-input level when the entire Campus is seen as a 'problem to be dealt with' or 'micro-managed' by the people in power at Hawthorn. How can positive reputation be restored when a few academics are intent on eating their own?

So you see, all I want to do this evening is bitch... and I have the LACK OF FINGER NAILS to prove my frustration levels.

...Meanwhile, life is supposed to go along normally, when in amongst all this tedium our family is gathering statements and evidence for Thursday. Crossing t's and dotting i's to attempt the smallest legal bill possible. The more we chase up, the cheaper the fees (at least that's what I am hoping). It's really a zero sum game at this stage, with the outlay totally necessary yet the outcome far from assured.

In amongst all this there is even talk of THE 21ST... all of a sudden. Thanks for the warning to start saving, especially as we all know who will be footing the legal bills. Speaking of frustrating malkes again... (he [the lawyer] wants the cash on the day... come on, what about invoices and 14 days to pay? Surely I could be sued for breach of contract should I not cough up?)



Oh, and just how many other hurdles are going to be placed in front of me in the coming days? And how can I seriously believe my wellness program (Yoga and Art Therapy) will hold up, especially when the Phsyio is also determined to check my back injury with his 'gentle pressure'?

To quote my favourite old broad... "I bitch therefore I am".... (sorry Descartes!)

The Scales of Justice

It would be very reassuring to be able to believe that justice is actually blind and fairness and equity reign in our Legal System, however that belief would be an ill-informed and naive one. The system here in Australia (albeit one of the world's best)is often found lacking. Just ask Nicola Gobbo! If the daughter of a famous Supreme Court Judge can be let down by the inbuilt checks and balances then what hope for us mere lowly commoners?

This week just concluded, I have become aware of several instances where the only winners from the Justice system would appear to be the lawyers. Despite the promised additional funds to Victorian Legal Aid, the law remains a very divided and inequitable system. The defendant or petitioner with the deepest pockets is ALWAYS assured to win, simply through the ability to ride the stakes high.

One friend has had to face the ignominity of facing the Courts for a Domestic Violence Intervention Order against her drug-abusing ex-partner. She has had guns pulled to her head and been beaten when sex was not forthcoming on demand. She was forced to flee her home with two small children under primary age, and propelled into the not-so cheap private rental market and onto the Sole Parent Pension.

She is trying to study to gain her financial independence but she cannot raise enough funds to ensure that she ends up with an adequate property settlement. Her chldcare costs are not covered by her study incentive payments from Centrelink.

Gee thanks Rudd Govt. for the help up out of abuse and poverty... reminds me of Howard Govt policies!

Her ex-partner has chosen to be unemployed (at least not visible on books) so that the bank repossesses the house (which he is sharing with his current girlfriend and her two children), and not be required to pay maintainance.

Where is the justice in this situation? The bank has first claim, then my friend has to fight tooth and nail for a fair distribution of joint assets. Just to add insult to injury, all the while a stranger's children sleep in the rooms she had designed for her two girls and beds she had bought for them!

The next instance again involves a friend and a legal battle with another embittered male family member. She has two legal battles raging at once.

After the death of her beloved mother she was named sole beneficiary of her parents estate (due to specified and articulated concerns with respect to her brothers history of substance abuse). Her mother had specifically stated that he be left no money or call upon the Estate as the family had supported him, beyond all reasonable expectations over many, many years throughout his addiction. Now the minute the Will is read, he decides to 'go clean' and begin blood and hair testing in order to challenge the Will. Somewhere he managed to find a 'no win, no fee' lawyer to represent him in this small matter. Suddenly the case is turned on its head. The deceased's intent and specifications are deemed less relevant than the amount of money it will take to fight through the Courts. A sum of $50,000 has already been mentioned as to the brother's current costs. Given that the Estate is worth around $300,000 and my friend's lawyer has pointed out that the legal fees could end up in the hundreds of thousands should she wish to pursue her mothers wishes! What crap is that? What is the point of a Will after all?

I remember asking this very question with respect to my own mother's will, when my dearest beloved brother challenged the will, then left his share of my parents Estate to his drug-abusing children (at the expense of my son and I). And I thought it was simply a Queensland problem, as my $5,000 barrister suggested. Wrong, it seems endemic.

Can one's wishes be so easily overturned upon death? Apparently so, if you have lawyers prepared to fight for every cent from the Estate. There are no winners here, (apart from said lawyers).

My poor friend has to go through it all again, this time with the dear old Family Court for divorce proceedings. Let's hope advocacy can achieve a sensible and just outcome and keep the lawyers involvement to a minimum. She has worked for over 30 years and may have very little to show for it after this little war.

Another friend begins her wait for a legal adjournment this week, temporarily delaying her Fate being meted out by Blind Justice. How can she be so calm in the face of this stuff... or is it a case of why sweat what you cannot control? C'est La Vie! If only I was that type of personality... but I fight to the death.

Lastly, I begin the countdown to our own family legal battle. 3 full days to go. And yes I have had to bring in the lawyer (hopefully with all guns blazing). It is our only chance for a good outcome. Yet, I fear that the cost of achieving this will be substantial, and I will be carrying yet another debt burdon for some months to come, but hey, how could I sit on my hands and trust to the luck of Legal Aid representation? I need to pull out all the stops available to the middle classes.

Over the coming days and nights, I just have to attempt to sleep and function normally so I will be attending to my wellness routines even more strictly than usual. Monday will be meditation, and gentle excercise (post Physio), Tuesday is Yoga and physio (again), then Wednesday Art therapy.

Then the BIG DAY... please send good wishes our way for Thursday 6th.

Then and only then can I begin to think about 21st birthday celebrations and Mother's Day. One step at a time is the week's motto.