jUst tO MAke iT cLeAR...

...for those that wish to remain with their heads in the 

sand ~ please allow me the pleasure of enlightening you 

on some of the appalling situations I have found myself 

in because of my Mother (who I have never blamed; 

although most would) and whom has never been accused

of being at fault NOR held accountable for the 

embarrasing and traumatic moments of my life.

* Age 1 ~ Born into a violent and volatile family 

life. 

* Age 2 ~ Hospitalised for stress related eczema. 

* Age 3 ~ Witnessed fighting, blood and screaming. 

* Age 4 ~ Daniel is born; now I have responsibility. 

* Age 5 ~ Too scared to let someone know I had soiled 

myself during one of my parents fights so I threw my 

undies over the fence. 

* Age 6 ~ I am crying at school because I wet my pants. 

Mum leaves Dad and we go in and out of Women's 

refuges and foster care for most of the next few years.

* Age 7 ~ forced to walk to the local Pastors house 

and stand at Mum's side to beg for money just so I 

could then walk into town and witness Mum spend the 

money on cigarettes and a toy car for Daniel who was 

chucking a major spasoid because he was tired from all 

the walking. Daniel and I are shuffled between not one 

but three foster homes, several women's refuges and at 

times the homes of family and friends. One halfway 

house in particular offers extra curriculum such as how to 

pack a bong, read tarot cards and graffic video pornogra

phy (funny enough this blog is directed at the Moron 

whose house this was and who wants me to 'walk a mile' 

in my Mother's shoes! Snap). 

* Age 8 ~ We spontaneously up and move to South 

Australia from Northern NSW in the dead of the 

night and at one of the states borders Mum decides 

she's going off fruit picking for a year with her 

boyfriend and leaves Daniel (who's asleep) and I in 

the care of a family friend. The next day we awake 

and begin a new life and a new school. Mum returns 

unexpectedly a year later, very unwell and demands we 

return with her to NSW. 

* Age 9 ~ We move often. At school I am interviewed 

regularly by social workers and made to draw pictures; 

mine are always the same ~ myself as a stick person 

standing underneath a colourful rainbow with flowers 

and a happy faced sun, the way I would like to see my 

life. I am never told if I have passed their tests. 

Daniel and I are 'randomly' selected and immediately 

sent to an underpriviledged kids camp in Sydney for 2 

weeks, when we get back we are teased by our school 

mates.  

* Age 10 ~ I am sitting in a police station trying to 

identify a man who jumped through an open window and 

climbed into bed with Daniel and myself at a party 

Mum dragged us to while she is outside in a panelvan 

fucking some bloke we've never met.  

* Age 11 ~ Baby brother Matthew is adopted out after 

we spend 9 months and 4 days with him. Begrudgingly 

my Grandmother is forced to take me to town to get some 

sanitary pads because I get my first period and Mum is 

in hospital yet again.

* Age 12 ~ I am struggling with puberty and the 

changes my body is going through. We have no fixed 

address it seems and I am becoming embarrassed by our 

situation, I have already been getting myself ready for 

school for years now and often have no lunch and come 

home to strangers in our houses and no dinner. 

* Age 13 ~ I begin Highschool. I am shy and a quiet 

achiever. 

* Age 14 ~ I follow Mum and Daniel to the Gold 

Coast and begin a new Highschool.

* Age 15 ~ I am taken in by my best friends family 

after they experience Mum in full swing. I choose to 

finish year 11 and 12 and graduate while dodging abuse 

from Mum on and off for the next 3 years.   

* Age 16 ~ I go out with my first boyfriend but because 

I have no real idea what a relationship is all about I 

can't talk to him for 2 weeks, we break up, become 

friends again and then I'm able to talk to him again. I 

am acutely aware that I am frigid.   

* Age 17 ~ I am awarded many achievements and a 

scholarship during my school years, all of which were 

never witnessed by either of my parents. I sang in the 

choir at every end of year concert but was never heard by 

my parents. I am still good friends with my first 

boyfriend and highschool sweetheart; we take things to 

the next level naturally and it is very sweet for a 

while.  

* Age 18 ~ I am finishing off Grade 12, working as a 

cleaner and now rebelling by dating a 41 year old man 

who drops me off at school in my cute uniform and slaps 

my arse on my way out of his car. He works in a broth

el. My bestfriend and I move into our first home.

* Age 19 ~ I am working, paying off my first car, going 

out nightclubbing, taking drugs and negotiating my life 

around my Mother's manic mood swings and frequent 

hospital visits. 

* Age 20 ~ I am job hopping because Mum often 

turns up to my workplaces and tells my employers that I 

am being sexually abused, used as a drug mule and in 

imminent danger from strange people from her past. It is 

just easier to get a new job than to explain that she is 

not well enough to know what she's talking about. 

* Age 21 ~ I plan and pay for my 21st birhtday party 

after having a termnation. Mum makes sure that every 

Special event is spent in the emergency department trying 

to get her into a mental health bed.

* Age 22 ~ I am living by myself, find inner peace and 

working hard in an industrial laundry. I am strongly en

couraged to go back to school and do something with my 

life. Mum makes sure that every Christmas is spent in 

the emergency department trying to get her into a mental 

health bed. 

* Age 23 ~ I meet Justin in a nightclub and know 

that I have to do something in my life if I hope to hold 

onto someone as special as that. I apply and am accepted 

into a Bachelor of Nursing course. Mum makes sure 

that every Birthday is spent in the emergency department 

trying to get her into a mental health bed.

* Age 24 ~ Justin and I are still together. 

* Age 25 ~ Justin and I are still together despite my 

Mother's interference.

* Age 26 ~ Justin and I are still together despite my 

Mother now targetting Justin when she becomes unwell. 

* Age 27 ~ I am now a Registered Nurse. 

* Age 28 ~ Mum stabs her former boyfriend in the 

back with a pen, Justin and I drove around to rescue 

him, diffuse the situation, Justin gets a Litre of milk 

tipped over his head and I chase Mum around the house 

holding out her pants for her while she has only a shirt 

on; police and ambulance officers wait patiently. 

* Age 29 ~ I spend every one of my Birthdays, 

Christmas's and New Year's in a security guarded hos

pital waiting room with Mum who spirals out of control 

on a regular basis. 

* Age 30 ~ We work and renovate home number one. 

Mum often turns up in an unwell state, when we refuse 

to let her in she goes to our neighbours doors and gives 

them the full sob story. 

* Age 31 ~ This routine continues and Mum is often 

spotted by our neighbours just sitting in our courtyard 

while we are at work, she continues to visit our neigh

bours despite our pleading for her to not do this. 

* Age 32 ~ Go back to university to undertake my 

Masters of Midwifery. Mum makes my intense study 

even more of a living hell. I am forced to admit to my

self that I need antidepressant drugs and a good psychol

ogist.  

* Age 33 ~ Move to New Zealand with the hope of 

making a life for ourselves and perhaps even getting some 

respite from Mum. 

* Age 34 ~ Living and working in New Zealand 

miles away from Mum but still easily harrassed and 

ambushed by a frantically unstable Mother who is 

convinced by her dilusional and irrational thoughts that I 

am being harmed, framed and corrupted. 

* Age 35 ~ Working in Dubbo Base Hospital trying 

to earn some money. I fly in to Australia and spend my 

first night with Mum in the hope that this will be 

enough to convince her that I love her and that I am here 

on serious Midwifery business; it's not enough. I am 

stalked, get 4-5 messages a day, numerous daily phone 

calls and then finally verbally abusive threats towards 

my husband. Mum finally rings my temporary workplace 

and creates confusion and concern on an already hectic 

and busy ward where I have no intention of explaining 

myself or my family issues. 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So for those who are unsure of what I have had to put up 

with for the past 35 years and who tartly believe I 

should 'walk a mile' in my Mother's shoes, consider 

yourself moronic. 

You're quite right; it's not all my Mum's fault, there 

were plenty of others responsible for the physical and 

emotional abuse I endured while I was growing up. I 

have a great solicitor now who would be very interested 

in some of my childhood experiences. 

How about You walk a mile in My shoes and see who's 

still smiling. 

I don't need to walk in my Mother's shoes to know of 

her pain and suffering, because for the past 35 years I 

have carried the burden for her.  

oFf tHe rADaR aNd tOo BuSY To cARe

Mum in Napier

 Life is just whirring me by at the speed of light at the moment and making me feel motion sick.
I wish it would slow down so I can take a few hundred things in first before moving onto the next hundred. 
I am exhausted, physically and mentally. It is nearly Christmas time, I am still studying until my eyeballs bleed and the cats seem to want to be fed every 15 minutes (they don't really it's just that 12 hours seems to go that fast). 
I think Justin and I have given up on the whole romantic honeymoon dream, now I could imagine us choosing to crawl through the fiery pits of hell on our hands and knees and find it relaxing. 
I've thrown the desperate idea of needing to do some exercise aside and replaced this with the notion that I had better learn to meditate and more importantly breath as soon as possible. 
The realisation of just how stressed we both are became blindingly apparent when we both truly enjoyed my mother's company for the three weeks just gone and yesterday found ourselves wishing she wouldn't go. While she was staying she did the dishes, did the washing, hung it out and brought it back in, attended to the Merredin Tight Five (chooks), let the dogs off, kept Scruffy the lamb company, answered the phone and took messages, helped with dinner and often ran us baths when our days were ridiculously long. Mum also gave me daily neck and back massages and brushed my hair - often while I was attending to emails. Bless her cotton socks. 
Mum hasn't even been gone 12 hours and Justin and I are already at each others throats again - over subjects too wild to mention - but here's just a few....dishwasher, virility and lack there of, tea-towels being thrown into a heap and left in random places, money (ahhh the root of all evil - you know that one had to be in there), and one doosey of an argument over an electorate letter (that I hadn't thrown out but lead to the whole contents of a rubbish bag being tipped onto the clean kitchen floor by said husband), that pesky letter was eventually discovered on the dining room table which was so freaking predictable it hurts to think about.


Arrrgh!! I feel like I need to throw something at someone; unfortunately the remote control didn't fair too well the last time that happened, leaving me to surmise that Justin's reflexes are getting faster.

It's not all been bad though...I was achoucher for a beautiful birth within the last week, I have passed two out of the four courses I have to get done, I don't have to work Christmas or New Years eve and I have today off to vegetate or study; whichever I feel is more important (after blogging that is). 
Heading to the couch to do some vegetative meditation in front of my true soul mate SKY - he always listens and understands my problems and brings me JACOB when I need it most. Jacob, you hot werewolf you! 


Here are some highlights of mum's visit...
  

Dying mum's hair for her birthday

Mum at the National Aquarium of NZ, Napier; not sure who is scarier...

Loyal nicotine supporter

Beach with black stones instead of white sand, Napier

Mum showing off her Justin Bieber pants; this is what happens when I have to attend a 2-day course and mum goes off shopping at the Warehouse by herself.

Walking out to the middle cattle yards to see Justin, mum's idea, which she was regretting right about now.

Picnic at Waihi Falls - Pongaroa

...doing what mum does best.

         





MuMs tHe WoRd

Had a good chat to my Mum last night. It wasn't manic mother, or paranoid Donna, it was just good 'ol Mum. We had a laugh about a couple of silly things and it was nice to catch up with her. I remember as a kid I would cherish those rare moments when Mum was Mum and I would try not to think about the fact that it might only last a day, a week or perhaps even a month if we were lucky.

While I was listening to Mum chat away last night I was happy inside but also a little selfishly sad that I may not get to talk to her like this again for another long while. I can't remember the last time I heard her so coherent and with no hints of delusional paranoia that I conclude it was too long ago and therefore long overdue, but I expect that it was a one off. A diamond in the rough. Found and then dropped into a vast sea of sand that stretches on towards the horizon. Maybe not even in a hundred million years will I find it again. And certainly probably not before my wedding day. But you just never know...

            I will continue to sift through the sand to find the diamond once again because it is worth it.

jUsT cAn'T GeT aWaY

What have you got to do to get a little space?

Now I know I am over tired after doing two 12 hour shifts - and finding myself up at 5 am, left at 5:45am and home just after 8pm - but I am frustrated to the teeth with Mum just ringing at the most inconvenient times.

We went to a roof shout last night, and right in the middle of the party I heard my mobile going off, the display said I also had a missed call and a voice message. I answered and told her I would call back at a more convenient time.

This morning I'm in a cafe with Justin and two close friends, catching up over breakfast, and my mobile rings - it's Mum. Again I tell her I am going to ring her when I get home.

Now I just don't want to talk to her, which is sad and likely to result in her ringing, and ringing our phones off the hook because she will presume something has gone wrong. A catastrophic disaster that has left my mangled body to rot and decay in a remote and dirty ditch.

Some people will not understand. Others will. My mother is obsessed with calling and telling you absolutely nothing much, and you have nothing much to report either since the last hour ago that you spoke. It's painful, and one of the reasons we left Australia, but of course it hasn't changed the situation for the better, only worse.
So what have you got to do to get away, without completely cutting yourself off all together (which we have given some thought to), and by not driving yourself into the ground trying to cope with the interference.
I would like to just be able to catch up for a long decent chat every now and again (maybe once or twice a fortnight) and then not feel like I have to screen the rest of the weeks calls and avoid a barrage of in comings.
I am off to have a hot drink, a nap, and general relaxation time before the phone rings again...

sLaVe tO tHe LaNd

No one said it would be easy, and no one was right.
Justin and I are now slaves to the land. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. Till death do us part.
A bit morbid for 8:40 in the morning, but after a burst water pipe late last night; the thanks we get from three sick calves in their supposed 'weak' state, Justin was out doing repairs soaked to the core trying to restore an entire water supply from the dam to all the surrounding paddocks - 1300ha. The last ride down to check on the pump I was in attendance. It was chilly, dark and unusual work for 9pm.
This morning we were both up just before the crack of dawn, back on the four-wheeler and with ladder in tow off to check another tank 3 paddocks away at the top of a hill. I can say that the sunrise was magnificent. I should also mention that I could not feel my hands or feet. Justin carried on with switching off electric fences, climbing to the top of said reservoir and checking the progress of it filling and then proceeded to retract the whole mission very quickly indeed. The cup of tea Justin had slurped down only 15 min's earlier had finally stirred his innards into a frenzy and he was now becoming very volatile. I was asked (somewhat impolitely) to race down ahead and open the gates up in anticipation of the great escape.
Life with Justin is one big comic strip, even the most dull situations can, and often do take a twist of fate into hilarity.
So farm life doesn't really have any set hours. It's pretty full on when things go wrong and cows and bulls are very thirsty critters. They may go one day without water but after that they drop off pretty quickly from what we've heard. We'd rather not find out by experience.
I begin my new job today. As expected I am longing to get back into any kind of payed work - both for financial reasons and for the mental stability. I could never be unemployed for more than 3 months I reckon. I would just go stir crazy. You lose your confidence, your identity, your purpose for being. Even if you scrape up dung voluntarily - it's a start. I love working. So does my Mum, when she's well. Unfortunately as she gets older it is becoming harder and harder for her to maintain the gut-wrenching physical jobs that she is likely to be employed for. With few skills, except for being a keen worker at anything, the last few employment opportunities that have surfaced for her have been either working on a conveyor belt at a chicken abattoir or a conveyor belt in a large bakery. Both require round the clock hours, mostly twilight and in excess of 10 to 16 hours. Other jobs that Mum has done include working on a trawler in Yamba (requiring both Daniel and I to be babysat overnight), vacuuming cinema theatres - again at night, truck stop attendant and cook, cleaner of just about every facet, and once long ago a nurses aid.
For all my Mother's weaknesses there is two strengths. And luckily for me she managed to pass on only the strengths.
Mum is still in Hospital, 7 weeks after I admitted her. I spoke to her yesterday and she feebly explained that some Dr has told her it will be at least 3 days before she can have unescorted leave. One of the many stepping stones to getting out of the psyche ward and proving that you are no longer a danger to yourself and others.
Mum has struggled with my move overseas. We have been preparing her for it for over 5 years, but it still impacted greatly on her ability to cope.
Frustratingly though, Mum still insists that she does not require "legal drugs" to make her better and is adamant that her bipolar disorder is just a cruel figment of a "controlling government body" and that if everyone just left her alone and stopped stealing all her important documents she'd be fine.
We tried that, it didn't work.