Thursday, July 31, 2014

runners can swim

Today I was counting, one, two, three, four. I was back in the pool, counting strokes, following the line and counting laps. For the first time in three weeks I smell like chlorine, and I have crunchy hair. Oh, and I feel pretty damn good too. There is something about following that black line, and being in that meditative state. There is also something awesome about a lady telling me after my swim, 'you are a very good swimmer, I was watching you!' Maybe runners can be swimmers too. If only I didn't breathe every fourth stroke, and actually learnt how to do the good old fashioned three stroke breathe technique. 




I think I should just take the compliment and go and put my crunchy hair in the sun for a bit!

Little pinwheel has a sale on the ladies mash up saltwater sandals… check it out, they are only $50 each 




Wednesday, July 23, 2014

depression :: the backseat driver

Yesterday my emotions took a backseat, and the head was in the drivers seat. Well it was for a slight moment, and just enough time to relieve the pressure on my chest. Too many panic attacks in the past week as the anxiety is heightened by the smallest of curve balls. I learnt a lot in only one hour. It is a very different approach to looking at ones life and analysing the whys, instead of driving the whole hour by my emotions. I have a feeling in the coming months I am going to learn a lot about myself, maybe even figure out who I am without the sexual assault. It could all be a new life blossoming underneath me, under the layers of the pain in this chest. I always thought it would be part of me for the rest of my life. It will be, but on a whole new level of knowledge and acceptance.



Today started off a good day. I guess I am apprehensive now as I know how quickly I can be pumping through my day and then the day pumping down on me. I am however pretty proud of 3 full days of not punishing myself. Today I did, and I have no idea why. The day was a good day, turned not so good. Or do you still call those days good? 

I am still smiling, not as many tears, and the chest has given me some relief today. I have two of the most amazing beautiful children and every day I am grateful for being their mumma. I hold it together so well for them, and at the same time I am letting it all out. It is time to be strong for them in a whole new way. Their mum is going to come out of this pain and maybe one day they will know that they held my hands each step of the way.



I am also grateful for the support from you; here, phone messages, and emails.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

talking about depression

This was a blog post I didn't want to write, nor did I think anyone would want to read it, or hear about it. It's sad, and about struggle and heartache. No one wants to read about someone else's hard time fighting with the battle in their head…




Who wants to talk about depression? 

Well I want to talk about it, however I am not too sure how many people like to hear about it. Especially when the person writing the post is currently in the big dark hole of depression. I don't even want to admit it, and didn't want to admit it. I would prefer to say I am a survivor of child sexual assault, and keep the rest hidden. However it truly is time someone stood up and spoke about this taboo subject on the levels that no one wants to hear about it. {And I believe I have been doing this from the moment I opened up my mouth to share my secret}. I am not asking for any sympathy, I am just asking that you hopefully walk away from reading this post, and future posts with some kind of knowledge, and understanding of depression, and the ongoing effects of child sexual assault.

It has been 22 years since he last touched me. 22 big years. That is a such a chunk out of someone's life and some might think that is long enough to 'get over' something. {Oh how I dislike those words. You learn how to deal with it, or live with it; you never get over it}.

And with a bit of luck you will have the strength to make something of the horror you faced with the life you live today.

I have turned it into something positive. I have made a difference in the past 12 months, and I am pretty proud of my efforts. In this time I have achieved a lot, and at the same time I forgot about what was going on inside of me. It was evident for the one I love as he witnesses the nightmares, the sleepless nights, and the fear set inside of me. He can see it all. I thought I had it hidden. Buried, safely inside. However it isn't buried anymore, and it isn't safe; I don't feel safe. I am scared beyond what one should be afraid. I am afraid as the sun starts to set, and the darkness creeps on over my home. It is like I am living the nightmare of my childhood whilst being an adult and trying desperately to live a life that I deserve. 

I am suffering from PTSD. I am suffering from bulimia to help with the anxiety in my chest. {It is a moment of relief, and then it just returns. A cycle that is spiralling out of control. Even though the bulimia is a form of control, and punishment}. I am suffering from some denial of the fact I am hurting so much. I am suffering from believing I deserve to live each day, that I deserve my little people, and the man that loves me. That I deserve to have a successful business…. It all turns into, is my business really successful enough, do my children really love the life they have with me, when they have the full family unit with their father, which I cannot offer them without family of my own. Do my friends really want to hear about my struggles when they too have their own stuff going on. Who wants to hear about depression, or hang out with the lady that is crying inside, and screaming for help?

Just over a week ago I saw a psychologist about the sexual assault. Yesterday I rang one of my closest friends and asked for her help. It is hard to ask for help when you know that life goes on, and everyday people have their own things to do and deal with. Who wants to deal with that lady?

With a little hope you one day will help that lady, man, or child that puts their hand up and asks for your help. Because the strength it takes to admit that you are depressed and need help is harder to reach for than you think.

My friend came and helped me, and now I feel like she is right here with me every step of the way.

I hope whilst I am in this black hole, I can shed some light on how I am feeling and coping, as I try to beat depression from effects of child sexual assault with natural remedies, help from a specialist, my doctor and those close to me. I hope I have the strength to come here and write about my days or weeks. Because it will be a turn around. {And wow writing really helps me tap into my head, instead of the emotions I am driven by}. I have beaten it before with the loss of my mum. Now I will beat the effects of child sexual assault in order to have the strength to help turn child sexual assault into the subject we all talk about, and understand. I just hope the road isn't too long.

I just spoke about depression. I hope you can see that talking makes a person that is depressed feel less alone. It's a subject people should not be scared to hear about, because its hard to ask for help.


Thursday, July 10, 2014

asking for help shows courage, {and determination}

Some people think with their hearts, some think with their heads, and others have the perfect balance of both. The problem with thinking with your heart is that you don't allow your head to do anything for you, which leads to where I am sitting right now. In a world of pain flooded by the emotions of the past. It isn't allowing me to think straight.



I am thinking with emotions, and emotions alone.

Today I was told I have amazing principals. I have this heart that is full of gold, although it is being taken over with emotions that I am unable to handle on my own anymore. This head of mine is pretty damn smart. It wants to strive to make a massive difference with child sexual assault, (which sadly might not happen in my lifetime, however I am going to continue to do what I am doing, and have the hope I have to change the world), and be strong enough to continue to face this journey along the way. In order to accomplish my dreams I need to be alright on the inside. There is this force of pain that is getting too much to bare, and it comes out in nightmares, flashbacks, new memories, anxiety, negative thoughts of myself, and the food I ate only 30 minutes ago.

There is one thing I am nailing, and that is parenting. Yes, I am sticking to a safe routine with my littles, (survival mode I call it), although I am giving them all of my heart that I can. Sadly behind closed doors I am in pain, and I never want them to see that or feel that. By the end of a day I am buggered, and I am scared. I have given all of what I have left in me to get through the routine we have, that is life. And I am falling in a heap. 




Thank goodness I was brave enough to ask for help.

Today I stood up tall, and I spoke about what I want, what I need, and what my dreams are. That I cannot stop, no matter how much my insides hurt, I have something I need to do, and I need the help to do it. Well today I got the help. It is a start, and I hope that I can strive to reach my dreams. 

One day I know I will write that book that helps people like myself, or even helps someone else to feel some inspiration to strive for their dreams, no matter what life they have faced. 

I am no hero, but one day, I do hope that I can stand up tall on a podium and have everyone hear about child sexual assault. It should not be a taboo subject, and it needs to be spoken about in the right context.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

do you like my blog

Blogging used to be easy. I need to get out of my head that it is another form of social media where you are liked one day and not liked the next. Where you have a follower drop off over night. Where you actually have apps where you can see if people unfollow you…. come on, WTF. Seriously where did old fashioned, let's have some fun and share our lives turn into a popularity contest?




So I am going to be the unpopular one, maybe have no comments, and with a little hope continue to rise above it all and continue to write whatever is going on in this interesting head of mine. It may be boring, it may not interest you one little bit, however there might be a day where I strike something in your mind and it makes you think, it makes you cry, laugh or even cringe. Either way, it shouldn't matter how cool or uncool I am. It isn't about being the popular kid. It is about sharing some hope and insight into a ladies life that has survived a childhood no one should have encountered. 


Here is an insight of the past week and a bit…. 









I have been too scared to come here and share what I am feeling, as I don't want to be the down chick. I want to be the one that is punching the sky with my fist, and you are shouting, 'hooray!' from behind your computer screen….. I am sticking strictly to a routine. To step out of my boundaries puts me in the range of feeling scared and vulnerable. {Not cool to feel that}. It is survival mode for me. In between these feelings we have rocked some fun. A lot of fun! And I am still a fantastic mum. 

In order to cope with the demons in my head I have been suffering badly with the bulimia. But today I didn't. Today is a good day, with the bad before the good. Today I found out that I have 5 cavities in my molars. {Yes, that is enough to make anyone vomit, but today it was a slap in the face}. Instantly I blamed myself. I could feel the tears well up, but I had to suck them back. I desperately wanted to tell my dentist that it was my fault. I had been suffering with vomiting due to struggling from the past. {She knows this from my first few visits, as I told her I struggled with an eating disorder…. damn I still am}. Tonight I heard these words…. 

'This is not your fault, you know it isn't'

I know I am doing it. I am the one physically doing it. But he is right. All of this is a coping mechanism from the past. And I am not to blame. Soon I will smile huge, with no holes in my teeth, and they will be perfect. It will be my perfect little life, that I can show in images.

I wonder how many likes I will get!


Tuesday, July 1, 2014

the green thumb project

I would love to turn back time when I lived with my mum, and we had the best vege garden. It was huge. We had cucumber, tomatoes, broccoli, lettuce, and herbs. We were eating from our garden most days. It was bliss!





 Now I am wanting to give that to my little people, however we are renting. There are some garden beds outside the side of our home, although they do not receive enough sun to really rock some good vegetables. These school holidays we are going to prepare the beds, and make a garden that we can appreciate. 





I would love for my little people to enjoy and experience the green thumb, beyond our planted pots on our balcony with our fake grass.




Love school holidays and a new project.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

whacky wednesday

Last night I bribed my children. {Some might call it parenting when treats or the television are used}. It all happened when I was not really into being the yelling mum, that only leads to me getting upset as I try harder to break up whatever is going on between the two of them. One was kicking the other, and one was poking the other. It was one of those silly sibling moments that was not going to end in a hurry and if it did, or when it did, it would end in tears, and usually from both of them. 



I am into letting them work it out between themselves. However so close to bedtime, I decided to stop the tears before bed, and suggested Keely hopped either on her bed, or her brother's bed and read him a book. 

Keely went out to our cool book collection, (the op shop finds), and pulled out 3 Dr Seuss books. She read all 3 of them. Taj sat listening, and even read his words he knew from school. 

Last night I won a battle with books. {And I will use it again, and again, and again}! In the end they also won, as they stayed up a little later than usual, and both fell asleep happy and dreaming about bears on wheels, on a whacky wednesday, and with curls and braids and beards and lashes.

Sweet dreams.


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