Friends are gold and LRB rules.

Yesterday, I knew that my mood was not stable as it had been the day before. I would say I was hovering around the minus 4 ( remembering that hospital beckons at that level). I felt that I could not face even getting out of bed. Even the shower seemed like too much effort, and I am one of those people who needs to shower whenever I feel stressed or just plain tired. My skin itches and feels like I want to scratch it off... and only hot streaming water, or a seaside dip can make me feel clean and alive. BUt this seemed pointless yesteday.

I knew I had arranged to be at a friend's house to help her with some writing for her PhD, and to work on something of mine. But I had nothing I could work on with a partner, and really felt just plain lethargic. I also had NO money for petrol. Well I had $10 but this wouldn't do the trip (110 ks return) an always ashamed to tell people how broke I am.

The words of my son and another girlfriend always resonate in my ears when I am broke. You SHOULD put money aside when you have it and not be in this position. Budget better!

There is that word again.. the bloody SHOULD!

Tell me oh wise ones.... how do you prioritise the budget to meet the shoulds of saving? And here I will publically lay it out. I receive (note not earn!) $600 per fortnight from Centrelink for a Disability Payment. My medication alone is $10.40 per week, without vitamins or mineral supplements that also help my mood states (fish oil, multis, B complex, and flaxseed oil). Then there are the few meals... say $80 pw (which includes personal care items also).

Next priority is keeping the car paid... as without it I am marooned and cannot escape AT ALL. That's $215 per fortnight. Add fuel $60 per week.

Now what's left? Well there is that little extravagance called an Internet. $45 per fortnight, plus a mobile phone pre-paid $20 per week.

Then let's add that ridiculous move I made to borrow money from Cash Converters to get to and from Uni (and attend the PhD colloquium) just so I could feel self-esteem and a sense of belonging with my co-students and ex-colleagues. So at 24% interest for the whole huge $500 my payments are $50 per fortnight. What a waste... how could I be so outrageous and ridiculous! Yep, I SHOULD HAVE stayed at home, felt disconnected, unempowered, isolated and totally worthless.... of course.

That leaves the princely sum of $10.

Now would anyone like to work out how I pay the thing called a Funeral Plan... at $37 per fortnight, car insurance $26 per fortnight, family health insurance at $115 per fortnight, and that other ludicrous extravagance Chrisco at $40 per fortnight... just so the household can feel normal at Christmas with festive fare and no huge debts afterwards. Let's add to this a waste of money through my last mental meltdown... an $80 library fine, and an outstanding student loan of around $600.

I am going backwards without work. Yet with work, my study time is eroded and I do not finish. Without finishing the PhD there will be no work. Catch -22.

Is it any wonder my self-esteem and my mood swing lower when I am financially pressured? How can you attend to the SHOULDS and save when at these moments YOU ARE NEVER SURE THAT THERE WILL BE A TOMORROW, OR NEXT WEEK???

That is not an overstatement. I have promised myself that I will not give up and just call it quits but deep in my psyche I still doubt that I can in fact 'pull it off', face down the demons and actually live or simply survive.

Living to me entails all the joyous wonder of the emotions, the social life, the glamour of the theatre, music, art galleries and restaurants. My life on DSS is simply survival. It brings a paucity to the spirit. My soul is in pain without affording me the beauty of 'living' at present.

So my SHOULDS go out the window. My common sense just can't win out.

So I guess for those reading this without BMD, I am (like my son and some friends seem to think) a selfish, immature little wastrell full of self-inflicted drama.

Oh, how I wish my words could allow you to empathise... if not agree with my thoughts and actions.

Luckily for me yesterday there is one friend who can and does empathise.

I am so pleased she convinced me to humble myself and borrow $20 just to get to her. To shower, dress, drive the 50 ks and walk along the beach, feel the sun on my face and the sand between my toes. How can I capture in words the pleasure of stroking the heads of two magnificent dogs across a fence; animals that accept a stranger's touch... and thus reassure me that I am an inherently 'okay' person?

I was able to drive home with 1970s and 80s pop music returning me to a time when I felt valued and with the future stretching ahead with all its promise.

Although not jumping up the mood scale, I think today I am stable again. I know the hospital is there in the background... but only when I catch up on the bloody health insurance payments... so maybe December??

What are those lyrics again... LRB? Hang on Help Is On The Way?

Sydney biennale and laying to rest the past.

Today has been a wonderful day, filled with sadness and extreme happiness. The day began with a sweet/sour goodbye to my dear friend N in Sydney as i boarded a plane to make it back to another dear friend's big day. My friend Kerry was to perform her one -woman show at a local theatre in front of selected guests and a camera crew from the ABC's Australian story. For Kerry, a great stand-up but no trained actor this was a major event, despite it being somefour months prior to her scheduled opening at a Melbourne Fringe venue. To have a film crew in the audience was something a seasoned pro would find daunting, especially given the script was still in workshop stage.

I am proud to say she nailed it. The material is so strong. Everyone is caught up in the moment; a friend doing the extraordinary. I am proud of her, just conquering the nerves and having the strength to face her demons publicly, especially considering her nearest and dearest were hearing events from her perspective for the very first time. Emotionally this was a momentous occasion for Kerry, her daughters and her ex-husband. There were tears shed in the auditorium as complete strangers were given a privileged insight into the Victorian justice system.

Even Kerry and her director, underestimate the potential power of this piece. As my friends know only too well, the acting teacher/director/performer and professional theatre reviewer still cannot sit inside a theatre auditorium and shut down the critics voice. Yet, today I became the dramaturg... another role I am comfortable in. However, this was not the role expected of me. I was to be the friend, caterer and general support crew.

I just find this impossible to do. I cannot switch off the producer/marketing head space. I know Kerry is sitting on a hit. Big time! It could do a national run easily.
But how do you speak to people so invested in a project? My dear friend asked my opinion as everyone (and that is literally everyone... oh yes except one regular theatre goer) gave Kerry such glowing feed back. We were all caught up in the emotion and success of the achievement.

Stupid me. I managed to avoid giving feedback at the venue when I discovered her director had very set opinions about the style the piece should take. In one sense she is correct, especially if Kerry is the 'talent'. However, I know this is bigger than that and needs a professional hand guiding the tiller. How can you discuss a project objectively when everybody ibvolved is too invested (and amateur).

Later when all the 'normal' people, the non-theatre people had returned home to their comfy suburban existence, Kerry and I sat together toasting a successful event.

I state again here that I am so proud of her accomplishement.


But then I made the mistake of being honest when she asked for my input. I was very cautious, trying to explain my point of view, but the moment I even hinted that the piece needed a dramaturg and professional actor.... well I lost my friend. The whole ownership issue and creative products is a fraught issue. Only the most successful palywrights (like Joanne Murray-Smith) know that for the piece to 'fly' the mother has to let go.

Only then in workshop can the writer see just what a gem she has created. How many great works falter at this first hurdle because writers/performers think that they alone can make the work 'fly'. I would say this is true at every level of the Industry, from Melbourne fringe to Hollywood blockbusters.

I guess this is why I no longer work as a theatre critic. I have made too many enemies by trying to be faithful to the potential of the work rather than the individuals involved.

I learned many years ago that no matter how good I thought I was, there was always someone better than me.... even with my own stories. I have learned the skill of letting go. It is painful but a necessary severing for the art to happen.

I want this piece to make its presence felt nationally, but I do not want my friend hurt or feeling inadequate. I am so conflicted. It really is none of my business... but basically I am still the woman prepared to mortgage her house to option a script, as I did in the eighties. I was defeated then... (Neil Armfield did the film, and unsuccessfully in box-office terms) but am too timid to take on the heartache again.

I guess I value my friendship with Kerry more... does that mean I am finally growing up?

Modern lives

It seems so easy to keep in touch these days with Facebook and email giving us the pretence of deep relationships and friendships. We know such minituae about our daily lives but this is no substitute for a good old face to face talk.

Why is it that our lives have become so busy, or so filled with appointments and commitments we find it near impossible to schedule quality time with friends? I am in Sydney and know it would be a great opportunity to catch up with absent friends over a nice meal at the Rocks or glass of bubbly in the Cross late at night, but it just seems that such a simple little social event cannot happen if it hasn't been entered into filofaxes, ipad or iphone calendars, or on the physical kitchen calender weeks in advance.

We are all now of a 'certain age' when our children should be independent but here we remain at their beck and call well into adulthood. And that's not counting the ones who are expecting the hands-on grandparenting and free child care!

Many of my women friends are struggling to work hard now that they are back on career track and that means not finishing work before 6pm at the earliest. Then for those with new or second partners, the push to ensure full emotional support seems to me a throw back to the 50s, when women would shower, change clothes and have dinner and slippers waiting for the 'husband' on his arrival home from work. Why do my professional female Sydneysider friends feel they have to do that as well as put in a 8+ hour day themselves? These second 'blokes' also seem to get quite possessive when confronted with a single female friend who knew their partner 'in the old days'.

What am I... the devil incarnate? Here to lure these (normally respectable and dutiful) females into sin and debauchery in 'sin city'? As if I would even know how, anymore. None of my theatrical friends are currently treading the boards so there can be none of those after show parties.

Also it isn't the 70s anymore... we have all slowed down!

It seems if I can subsitute a night on the town for a dinner during daylight/work hours my female friends feel more comfortable catching up.

Do I carry the 'singleton' disease or something?
Is this the related to the defect 'being welcome in a couple's home as long as I have a heterosexual male accompany me'?

Where at my age does the cultural script dictate husband predator? Too many jokes about beinga cougar one day... as if!
Sure I miss being in a committed realtionship, but hey if it is that constricting who would want it?

And I'm sorry to tell you my dearest girlfriends but it is also possible I don't find the love of your life to be Adonis in the flesh... Sorry they are never THAT Perfect Italiano cheese guy from the TV! Only then would you have to worry.

The other thing that seems to stick out in my mind, is that this was less of an issue 18 months (and 50kg) ago.

So dearest JG, I will catch up when you are performing somewhere (preferably in Melb) and DM we can arrange a proper scheduled luncheon. MK we can spend a nice weekend away when you decide this one wasn't quite Mr OK for now... I give you another six months... and a bottle of Cliquot on that one. I will be happy to pay up if I'm wrong (for a change).

Meanwhile keep the tacky email jokes flying and talk on FB real soon ya'll.

Fun Friday...

Last night's book launch was fun. I felt I owed it to my dear colleague to attend his launch rather than the Alumni Chancellors lecture. Luckily this proved to be the correct decision, as the lecture was recorded and will appear podcast somewhere in the future.

I am sure that the panelists also use the same speeches at many events, and they will be readily available somewhere, perhaps at the Wheeler Centre sessions?

The book launch was good in that I met some new and interesting people, especially those from the outside world. Hello Ann! I admire people with the confidence to work in the private sector assured that their skills are marketable to demanding employers. I have never felt I had marketable skills for the world outside education or the public service sector. On so many occasions my lower middle-class background colours my sense of place in this world, no matter how many qualifications I accumulate.

It is as if I believe that my fate is to never be economically secure as I have rebelled against my 'station in life' so must be penalised.

How irrational is that?

After having left the launch I travelled back to my new, cheaper hotel. This time my pockets were empty and I had only enough for the train fare home. No room service for me, no lesiurely breakky or trips to the sales again. The only good thing was that I had some white wine left from the bottle my friend brought to my previous hotel room. I could pretend my life is comfortable and filled with wine, perfume, concerts, theatre, restaurants and companions...

Watch what you wish for!

Companionship.

Just when the night was ending and a lonely hotel bed is calling, one of my new friends arrives to share a nightcap. Luckily common sense comes into play as she is tired and we have drunk the whole bottle, plus the remainder of first bottle and some sparkling at the book launch. There is no way she should drive... so would you believe I share my hotel bed with a female friend, which I haven't done for over twenty-five years.

No lonely hotel room tonight, just two older mates being sensible after sharing honest and reafirming conversation, genial friendship and partying a bit, if a book launch counts as partying?

I would say in the age demographic 50s it does!

After such a connected evening, I cannot face Friday alone.

Again a female friend comes to my aid. I 'train it' to her home and we actually spend hours working and brainstorming our PhD exegeses.

It was such a successful afternoon that we celebrate with the almost mandatory bottle of wine.

And yes dear 'new' friend (male) you owe both of us those promised bottles of Sauv Blanc watching the sunset over the water from her patio!

This being sensible is becoming a habit.

I have to phone home and get picked up by car. Somehow I have managed the entire week without succumbing to the black dog that was threatening earlier, and I have been able to do some straight thinking for my PhD. Is this that mich yearned for work-life balance?

Yoga, excercise, sanity, wining, dining, laughter, friendship, intellectual stimulation, job prospects, and writing!

What more could one ask for?

Oh yeah, don't go back there today.

Must not watch too many Hollywood movies.

Pity I am writing this too late after having a quiet n ight in watching my beloved Meryl Streep in It's complicated.

...If only!

The Book Launch

I left off yesterday's blog feeling very Bea Arthur.

Perhaps I should see myself as more Vera Charles than Dorothy Zbornak!

Again my thoughts dwell on friendships. Thinking of Bea Arthur draws my mind back to my wonderful friend Dizzy and to the days when we would sing Bosom Buddies and promise each other we would play Mame and Vera when we were old enough... well my darling Diz, I am now old enough and you have left me forever. I miss you so much. You areone of the reasons I began my PhD. I need to capture our special times and experiences forever. They will never come again so they can live on in my novel and finally allow me to finish grieving... perhaps I may be able to go on and become Blanche Du Bois, after I've reconciled my loss of dearest Michelle also. I would love to be as light hearted and open to romance as this famous TV character.

Ah, it always had to become a blog about sex, eventually!

My new friends from work are showing me alternate female gender roles. It is amazingjust how many of the professional women academics have a very traditional domestic family arrangement.
Yet, when I first began lecturing so many years ago my colleagues were predominantly gay women and singles. Why has there been a change or is it simply that the location and type of higher education institution explains this change? Does outer suburbia lend itself to convenient employment for qualified married women, and allow the time to combine motherhood and career responsibilities. I can't see the same family friendly work practices being overtly available at the big research G8s, where career and the University must come first, for academic survival.

It is so good that at least one of my new friends and colleagues is a post-second wave woman, sexually liberated, very much in the mould of SATC. If she had a higher academic salary those would be Manolos on her feet, and not for her a Big, but toy boys and sexual freedom. I am so jealous... I sometimes fantasize that the way forward for me one day will be a toy boy, where I can be the older wise experienced woman... but it is just that; a fantasy.

Even with my anticipated weight loss and avowal to be a cougar, it is not likey to happen. If I have to be honest with myself I really would like a realtionship with an intellectual equal. Yeah, that's likely to happen. Most of my solid male friends are gay. So much for intellectual stimulation within coupledom... just not gonna happen.

This also brings me to male friendships. I watch another new friend who idolises his wife. They too share the traditional gender roles within their marriage whilst he is also free to explore his snagdom. But that is an external image he cultivates. In reality, he needs all the emotional maintenance from his partner as most married straight men I have met.

Next is a very very new friend. I am getting quite worried about him. Whereas when we first became friends he was very open and forthcoming about his dreams and hopes. He was excitedly embarking on a new set of life challenges and was confident that everything would fall into place. Now suddenly he has become more reticent and less likely to socialise and confide. I notice a distinct saddness and feeling of disappointment. This new adventure was never going to be easy but I had hoped for him it would be rewarding.

He is no longer glowing. He seems tired and a tad disconnected from his new friends and colleagues. I miss our frank conversations and cameraderie of last summer. I am wondering what happened and whether it is wise for him to be so self-contained if there are issues he needs to resolve.

I also fear that when he learned that I had BMD he is so frightened to speak openly, as my response cannot be assured as he fears he 'might set me off' or trigger my madness in some way. Since I told him I had BMD he has distanced himself as a friend. I am grieving for this. My illness is suddenly the elephant in the room, the unspoken thing. Yet, I joke as usual about it, because that's the only way to live with it and not allow it to be damaging to myself and others.

Why is it that my new female friends and colleagues are prepared to understand my illness, as part and parcel of me, yet my two new straight male friends and colleagues are less prepared to get to know me further. I hate feeling like I have a communicable disease.

I guess that's why I feel I will always be alone, if that's how educated men my age respond, what hope is there to meet someone (of the male gender) who reacts differently and isn't gay?

I adore my gay friends but hey enough is enough... your domestic bliss becomes too much for a single white female to cope with as my loneness is spotlighted!

Dear Reader (me)

Thursday past was a very intriguing day. I had expected that after all the legal brouhaha I would simply be able to swing back into my expected life of study and focus.

WRONG.

Naive again.

There was an amazing emptiness and lethargy which swamped the emotional space where the adrenaline had been.

I should have realised that it would take a little time for my brain chemistry to re-adjust after so many years of 'fight or flight' patterns. But for a change I did not beat myself up about it.

Lately I could be considered even more selfish and self-focuses than usual... but this time it is not a bad thing. My core inner strenth and emotional stamina is re-balancing. It saddens me that one of the most influential and (previously) idolised women in my life seems totally unable to comprehend the effects and outcomes (mentally) on the life journey which seems to be drawing to a close. Again how foolish of me to not expect someone to fall precipitously from a pedestal I had created.

Why is it that I still equate high intellect with common bloody sense?

That is just plain stupid and demonstrably wrong.

I find that out every time I work at a University. I discover that IQ does not necessarily ensure EI, and whilst it is the conversations and wit of my brightest colleagues I enjoy, and thrive within those interactions, it is the very human compassion and empathy shown at work to me, by colleagues and scholars (who could be described as 'not so intellectually brilliant to the academic shining stars'), which is perhaps the most priceless gift they can give me. It is these 'real', 'down-to-earth', 'flawed' but 'special' people with high EI who are the 'friends' that support me when I need it most. You Lilydalers know who you are as do certain colleagues from interstate Unis, TAFEs etc.

When I am away it is these people I miss and cry for. The loneliness and compansionship lost is painful and I am stirred to drive for hours just for a few moments of shared comraderie. You all help recharge my psyche. I leave positive and ready to pickn up the pieces and move forward.

I hope one day I feel confident enough to say your names in print so that you can discover how much you have given me. I have learned a bitter lesson with two of my oldest friends (in the sense of known longest) that we can waste so many years by not speaking truthfully and openly about valuing friends attributes and love. WE wasted so many years battling the ups and downs of our lives alone, when we could have held each other up emtionally and been able to draw on this unique combined strength.

This is probably why I circulated a chain email about the most important women I would like to gather in one room. I could not limit it to the eight required. Sitting down I realised just how many women in my life at present were compassionate and sharing and each in their own way striving to change the world for the better. Even by just communicating within their nearest friendship group and sharing the wealth of life-experience and cultural understandings born from difference they were daily making me a better person and making the communty a better place. They were also nurturing the next generation to hopefully not make the mistakes made by ours.

As for the fewer males in my most valued friends/acquantance group, you were spared the chain email because "it was a woman-thing" but every word typed here is applicable to you all, also.

I can now say I am truly blessed to have had these women in my life, along with the others who did not make it to my 'global cabinet'(Rest assured you are all on my 'backbenches') who could indeed, together, change the world.

My main regret in life is that it has taken me so long to discover this cornerstone of human existence and I had missed the opportunity to value my deceased friends in the same way. I now understand how they also made me who I am today, and it is for them that my artefact will be written. My PhD will be completed. Yes, it is for me purely and simply, in the most career-driven motivation. But the content is my humble tribute to the friends I have lost and never made the effort to tell how valued they were.

Oh my goodness is this the beginning of wisdom... at last?