Post Number 64 - Turning a Corner

It's been five weeks since I started specific supplementation and the iron infusion and that seems like an eternity ago.  Life is so different now and I feel like I am becoming the person I was always meant to be.  The profound difference has really driven home how important my study is.  Learning about the body and witnessing first-hand how a metabolic deficiency can change how you behave and how you view the world, quite frightening.

Pyrolle Disorder runs in families and is often misdiagnosed as schizophrenia, depression or other mental health disorders.  My grandmother was diagnosed with this condition which I already knew, but I didn't know there was a link to vitamin and mineral deficiencies that could lead to such dramatic behaviours.  My grandmother was deemed "unfit" to raise her three children, so they were sent off to be raised by other family members. My mother and her sister were raised by their grandparents and their brother raised miles away in another town.  The family was always disconnected and disjointed and I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to be ripped away from your home and placed in a completely different town and be raised by almost strangers, at the tender age of five. Mum lived with her grandparents for almost a year before her sister joined her and they rarely saw their little brother.

I asked Mum about those times and if there were any big events leading up to her mother's diagnosis.  She was quick to point out that after the birth of her little brother, her "Mum had never been the same".  I asked if the birth had been traumatic and she confirmed this, although she did not know the details.  Could this trauma have triggered pyroloria? Had there been dramatic blood loss resulting in anaemia? This we will never know, but it certainly is a possibility.

I had my blood tested again four weeks after the infusion and the results came back with amazing figures.  Never before had my iron levels looked so good, so no further medical intervention is required.  I continue my supplementation and I now feel so much brighter and happier.  I feel I can handle stress better and the people around me no longer feel like they are tip-toeing around me in the fear they may "set me off".  I was a walking time bomb at home and an emotional wreck outside the home.  People looked at me and I knew they were thinking "oh poor Irene, the grief has overwhelmed her".  No one understood how I was feeling, not even me, but I knew that the grief had absolutely nothing to do with it.  This feeling just made me angrier and more frustrated.

I want to make one thing really clear.  Yes, I am grieving and always will be.  Yes, my life is different now.  But that doesn't mean my life is terrible.  I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me!  I have so much to be grateful for. So so much.  I found the love of my life, many never have that opportunity.  As a result of that love, I have an amazing young boy who is my world- many don't have that.  I have a roof over my head and don't spend each day worrying about how I am going to put food on the table- many don't have that. I have circles of friendships where I am loved and accepted for who I am without judgement, without pity- many don't have that. I have many skills and abilities, knowledge and resourcefulness- many don't have that and rely heavily on others for daily tasks. I study in an environment where I can learn about how to heal myself and hence help to heal others. My life is good.  It may not be what I had expected, it may not be easy, but as I grew up with only a mother (my father died when I was only two), it feels familiar to me.  Hard work is just part of life and all I really know.

As of this week, my kitchen, after two years of "on again-off again" renovation, is finally finished! The chicken run fencing is also almost finished, time, always being my biggest problem.  I have recently recruited a gardener once a month to help me with some of the heavier workloads around my garden.  Within minutes of me showing him around the garden, I knew this was one of the best things I had done in a while. His knowledge and passion of native gardens oozing from every one of his pores and he complemented me on one of the most amazing gardens he had seen in a long time.  I was so happy to finally find some help who would actually be "help" and it was so nice to have someone to talk to and bounce ideas off.  It gave me hope that there are still lovely people out there who share similar ideas and passions as I do. 

So life goes on a little smoother now.  My mind is clearer and more focussed and not cluttered with dark thoughts. I am calmer and happier deep inside.  I feel content and able to contribute to society.  Mid-semester exams are over and while the results have not been very good, I believe and I can get myself back on track.  Life seems enjoyable again and I don't need to pretend anymore.  I can be Me, and that's okay!

Post Number 63 - Faking it but not Making it

It has now been five weeks since College went back and I started to struggle almost straight away.  By week three I was breaking down in class and in desperation, I went to my local GP to ask for a full blood test to see if there was something obvious going on.  Studying various blood disorders, leukaemia's and anaemia's sent me down a slippery slope of wondering if I too could be getting a fatal disease.  What was wrong with me? Why was I so flat, so unable to remember the slightest detail about what I was learning or reading about.?  There had to be something terribly wrong.

The months of Feb and March bring Adelaide alive with the Fringe Festival bringing so much entertainment from all over Australia and the world.  Our little city comes alive and I have never really involved myself that much in the festivities.  This year however, I decided that if I wanted to enjoy life, I had to get out there and make it happen, even though I would actually prefer to just stay at home and check-out from the world.  "Fake it til you make it", I told myself.  Get out there and do what others are doing, chill out, have fun, have a laugh, contact some friends. 

So I did.  I lost count of how many shows I went to with different people and different groups.  I also took Sebastian and we spent an afternoon seeing two shows and then decided to see a third!  That day was my best day by far.  Spending time with him and watching him laugh and talk about the things that he saw, filled my bucket.  But often, on other evenings, I began to feel out of place again, like a real "fake", which I guess I was, but I was trying so hard to have fun, but just couldn't. No offence to anyone that I went out with, there was just that deep joy completely missing.  The shows I went to were excellent, one causing my face to ache after laughing non-stop for over an hour.  But the joy of socialising, that one should have, just not there. Any other times of social activity, feeling exactly the same. "What is wrong with me and what have I become", I kept asking myself?

On Friday of that same week of visiting the doctor's office, my phone rang while I was in class and I saw it was the doctor ringing me back.  I had also broken down in his office when he simply asked me how I was.  Although people ask you this all the time, they really don't want to know, but of course, this person actually wanted to know, how I was, and why I had come to see him.  That alone, sent me into a flood of tears. 

Seeing his name on my phone sent me into a panic.  I had only had the blood taken the day before and he has never rung me back with results in the past.  I knew it had to be serious.  I ran out of class to answer his call and he advised me that my iron levels were once again bottomed out, lower than ever before and he was suggesting an iron infusion to quickly restore my levels.  My head was spinning as he told me that everything else was ok and all other results showed similar readings to last year, so no major changes and nothing to worry about. 

Relieved, I agreed to have the iron infusion and returned to class.  In the break, I was again overcome with emotion.  Mainly from relief that there wasn't any major diagnosis or concerns.  But the question still haunted me, "why are my iron levels so low all the time, when my diet is so good".  I knew the herbs I was taking had strong levels of iron and I had started yoga classes to help with stress.  My lecturer saw my distress and asked if I was alright and could she help with anything.  As a natural health practitioner herself, I was keen for her input.  Immediately after looking at my blood test she told me to look into "Pyrrole Disorder".  I quickly looked up the signs and symptoms and body mechanisms that surround this disorder and I felt like I was reading about myself.  The emotional outbursts, the "anger episodes", intolerance, fatigue, iron deficiency, it all started to make perfect sense.  I contacted my natural practitioner and explained my findings and he too agreed with the diagnosis.  I contacted the GP and explained that I would like to be tested for this disorder, but alas, he had never heard of the condition and "needed to do more research before he would agree to the testing".  This astounds me, as the test would be paid for by myself as it is not covered under Medicare, so why does he have to "approve it"?  Needless to say, he has not gotten back to me. 

With three lectures on Fridays, I had the opportunity to briefly mention this disorder to three different natural health practitioners and they all agreed that this was a possibility based on my signs and symptoms and the trauma that I have been through in recent years.  I decided I would start supplementation straight away, which included a specific form of zinc and B6 as well as strong Vit C to help with iron absorption as well and amino acids and Vit E.  The following week I had the iron infusion and expected to feel better within days, but as yet, that has not happened, even though some 8 days have now passed.  But there are some improvements.  My head is starting to feel clearer and I am now sleeping really well, better than ever actually.  And I am feeling calmer and not so agitated and angry at everyone who seems completely incompetent.  I still have a long way to go, but hey, the body takes time to heal itself so I have to be patient.  The thought that I may once again feel good, enjoy exercising, lose weight and regain a zest for life a real possibility now.  I hang on to that dream as I continue to plod through lectures, texts books and research papers and hope that my brain function kicks in soon enough to allow me to pass mid-semester exams which are very close indeed!!

Post Number 62 - The Holidays Are Over

I can't believe I start back at College tomorrow after 3 wonderful months of freedom from books, research papers, assignments and exams.  I have never had such a long break from study but I am so glad that I had this opportunity, as I have never needed it more.

Sebastian started school four weeks ago and has settled in to his new routines, however, after such an amazing year last year, with a young dynamic teacher, the road hasn't been totally smooth.  I have also been struggling with his new teachers and their methods and have already had a few strong words to say about it.

That said, Sebastian takes it all in his stride, with grace and maturity, just as I knew he would.  He starts playing a school sport (basketball) for the first time this year, which is also exciting and a new beginning for him.

Meanwhile, I have been continuing with my long "To Do" list at home.  It seems I cross one item off the list and add two more!  Some days I wonder how long I can keep this up for, and other days I just "get on with it".  One of my biggest achievements was the conversion of Sebastian's old cubby house into a chicken coop.  Constructing new doors, making a perch and installing a shelf and creating two nesting boxes, just part of the fun.  The best part was being able to reuse old bits and pieces for a truly zero cost project.  Even the paint was left over from other projects.  I became quite obsessed with it and loved the opportunity to actually build something practical.  The fact that I did most of it by myself, also very satisfying and left me asking questions like, "Would I have done this if Mark was still here?  Probably not", "Would he have agreed to this project? Possibly not" yet it all went so smoothly, I can't help but believe there was some "divine intervention". 
 



Another project close to my heart, and my stomach, is our ever evolving vegetable garden.  For years we have built, rebuilt and worked on trying to grow our own food, with very little success.  Whether it be soil quality, not enough sun, too much sun, dogs, cats, rats or possums, there has always been something stopping us reaping an abundance of freshly grown food. This year I came really close to my dream of abundance, only to have it ruined practically overnight by rats.  The netting that I had installed at the beginning of the season, simply chewed through.  Determined to succeed, I began designing and buying materials to completely close in the garden, like a big cage.  It's been ten years since we started trying to grow food, so I can't give up now.  With some assistance from family visitors from Mt Gambier, we made the appropriate upgrades and began the caging in process.  While it's not yet finished, I'm confident that this will work.  IT HAS TO WORK!!!

Another project that I had been putting off, was changing computers.  Mark's computer, a Microsoft Surface Pro, just collecting dust, while I continued to use his old hand-me-down.  I made the decision that it was time to utilise this amazing piece of technology that will allow me to take a full blown laptop into college, while also being light weight and useable as a tablet.  This also meant bringing in all the equipment from his old office into my office and completely changing how I work-with the end-goal being a big improvement to my working conditions.

I'm proud to say, I completed this in much less time that anticipated and without any external assistance.  With such a complex network setup and user profile setup, the risk of things not working correctly on the new machine quite high, but again, with some more divine intervention, most things worked themselves out rather quickly and my stress levels were kept at manageable levels.

So with all these success stories, why do I feel so down on the world?  Is the grief really taking hold now? I try to make my life fun and yet I just feel numb.  My tolerance levels are at an all-time low. Whether it be teachers, other drivers on the road, retail assistants or general public in the supermarket, I just want to tell the world to "bugger off".  My weight continues to grow no matter how much I watch what I eat.  I began exercising, only to slump back into feeling too flat to get out of bed early enough.  I try to remain optimistic as I continue to work with my practitioner, but it is so soul destroying every time I step on the scales.  This adds to my bad moods and short fuse as well as the hot weather and the anxiety of starting back at College, knowing I have at least one really difficult subject to get through.  I try to give myself positive encouragement and pat myself on the back when I achieve things and realise that this is my life now.  I have to do this all myself.  I can't show off what I have done or even talk to anyone about it as people genuinely either don't understand or just have their own things happening in their lives and are not really that interested.  I'm not meaning to sound bitter, but it's true.  While people might want to know general things like "how are you going", they don't really want to know when you might be struggling or sad or just want someone to show what you have achieved. If you say anything other than, "not bad thanks" or "ok, how about you?" they freak out!

Sometimes I worry about my close relationship with Sebastian.  While I try hard to not involve him in adult problems or conversations, he is there.  He listens, he understands me and he is my best friend.  I know that sounds wrong, but who else really cares that much? I ask him each day, how his day was at school and he generally asks me how my day was.  Too often, I hear myself say, "it was ok, nothing exciting, quite boring actually". Am I really being a good role model?  In many ways, yes I am, but there is always doubt that is ready to creep in when I feel myself being so negative.

For now, I will drink my herbs and take a deep breath; gather my books and hit the classroom and hope for great lecturers, a clear head and a focussed mind as I put one foot in front of the other, and continue to take one day at a time.

Post Number 61 – Summer Holidays

Christmas seemed to come and go in a flash and quite honestly, I couldn’t wait for it to be over.  I grew more and more depressed about Christmas and did the bare necessities to get through it for Sebastian’s sake.  The tree was erected and a new front door decoration was made, but all other decorations stayed in the boxes.  As Christmas drew near, it seemed clear that either no one goes to the effort of sending Christmas cards anymore, or no one cared to send us one.  It has been a tradition in our household for many years to write cards to all our family and friends and include a little letter which summed up our year.  Often Mark would write the letter and I continued the tradition over the last few years.  Our lounge room would be a mass of cards and many would express how they loved receiving our card and letter each year.  But this year the room remained absent of cards, with the exception of those brought home by Sebastian.  He sat and wrote out 17 cards for all his school friends, but still I could not summon the energy or Christmas spirit to continue our tradition. 

The depression grew deeper as my body continued to gain weight.  I couldn’t get out of bed and my body was in constant pain from every muscle and joint.  I felt constantly tired, alone and unloved and wondered if anyone would notice (except Sebastian) if I just slipped away.  I tried to push through it by painting my kitchen and continue with my huge list of things to do before Christmas, but eventually, I just couldn’t go on.  I contacted my now ex-lecturer.  It was due to him that I continued with my studies.  I loved his lectures so much and he always told amazing stories of sickness and healing.  I had already referred many people to him as I knew he could help them and he wouldn’t charge them the earth as so many practitioners do.  He was also seeing my Mum as her shingles still hadn’t resolved after more than twelve months.  He explained to me what my body was doing and what we needed to do to help it to heal.  Stress creates hormones which signal the body to hold weight.  Muscles tighten, heart races and the body eventually becomes exhausted and depression sets in.  Welcome to grief!!

With only days before Christmas, I had a sudden burst of Christmas spirit and I decided I really wanted to continue our tradition.  I wrote the letter, reviewed our last card list and removed many people from the list and yet, added many new names.  It was depressing to see that all of Mark’s friends have never contacted me since his passing, never invited us to a BBQ, never offered to take Sebastian on an outing and never asked if I was okay.  I always felt that his friends had not accepted me and I guess I am not surprised that I have been excluded from their lives. 

Being a member of a young widows support group has been my saviour on so many levels and I know this situation is all too common.  Why is that? Why are “we” now so difficult and uncomfortable to be around?  My whole life I have felt that I “don’t fit in”.  Although born in Australia, my heritage is German.  My entire family lives in Germany, except of course, my mother.  My father died when I was two and I know very little about him or his family.  So I never really felt that I belonged in Australia.  I feel comfortable in Germany, yet, I don’t belong there either.  I was raised in the city, yet I feel comfortable in the country!  In most social groups, I always felt awkward and unable to say the right things as I am not generally one to follow the status quo.  I don’t like football or cricket, so immediately, I am unable to join in many conversations about sport. 

I have many flaws and Mark knew them all and yet, he loved me anyway.  He knew me better than I knew myself and yet, his love for me never faulted.  Never had I felt such unconditional love, the ability to just be myself and know that I would not be judged for it.  That feeling is priceless and what I miss the most.  Often I wonder if I have said the wrong thing or forgotten something important to someone or somehow reacted inappropriately.  I believe all humans need to feel a part of something, to be needed and to be loved and accepted for who they are.  Pretending to be someone you are not only brings heartbreak and false happiness.

Since becoming a widow I have found some comfort and a place of belonging in several places.  Firstly, at college.  I feel I can openly talk about food in our society, chemicals in our food, air and water environment and medical practices, without being judged, ridiculed or labelled as extreme.  Our studies all involve examining scientific research and we all learn the mechanisms of body systems, the biology and chemistry around how our bodies react to these factors.

Secondly, within the grief group. Another place where I seem to be accepted and embraced for who I am and I can openly express how I feel and instantly be understood as others share similar experiences.   I continue to form friendships and feel relaxed most of the time.  Through members of this group I have found opportunities to laugh, cry and have fun on a social level, something that I don’t seem to find anywhere else. 

Lastly, oddly enough, in Mt Gambier.  After years of not understanding the Thompsons and them not understanding me, I feel that on some level, we seemed to have met in the middle.  Mark’s passing seemed to have brought us all together, with Sebastian being the main focus.  We have just returned from seven days away in the Limestone coast and neither of us wanted to leave.

Mark’s father and brother took Sebastian on many adventures and taught him some new skills including fishing at the river, riding a quad bike, mowing the lawns with a ride-on mower and taking him to the speedway.  We also looked at museums, caves, the Blue Lake pumping station and swam in the Millicent swimming lake.  We managed to survive getting lost in the bush / pine forest region while attempting what should have been an easy and exciting butterfly walk.  Indeed our time away was exciting, fun and rich. It was one of our best times away and as I hugged my father-in-law goodbye and drove out of his driveway in the old girl, the tears flowed.  The holiday was over and my gratitude to this family indescribable.  We had stayed with an auntie and uncle in Pt MacDonnell, and we often cooked meals to reduce the cost of our time away. Daily “Happy Hour” would bring opportunities to talk about our adventures over a glass of wine, often resulting in lots of fun and laughter.  We felt so happy and welcomed there, like we belong, and as we left the main streets and entered the highway to home, Sebastian’s tears flowed.  No words were spoken and we simply handed each other tissues while continuing our journey home.

We now have one more week of time together before school starts for him again and we have enjoyed every moment of our time together.  It often saddens me when I heard parents say that they can’t wait for school to go back. I know the relationship I have with Sebastian is different to most parent and child relationships, but it’s still uncomfortable to hear.  We genuinely enjoy each other’s company and we find balance in our days.  I’m sure the tears will once again flow when the time comes to take him to school once again, in a new classroom with a new teacher.  But until then, we will enjoy our last days together, continuing our adventures and fun in the sun.

Post Number 60 - Turning 90

It's been a few weeks since the "lost car" incident and I have spent the last weeks studying for exams.  The weekend in Mt Gambier proved to be a welcome relief and I spent time with lovely members of Mark's family who I wouldn't usually see.  It was wonderful for Sebastian to also get to know some auntie's and uncles and again concrete his awareness that his family is bigger than he realises.

The weekend was a great success and driving the "old girl" was also a real treat.  But the drive home seemed long and tiresome, much longer than usual.  Almost like I was alone driving this car and no longer had the assistance from Mark.  Lately I have struggled to feel his presence and I wonder if he is still with us.  Sebastian has also been having troubles sleeping and didn't seem his normal self.  He asked me to arrange a Reiki healing which I promptly did, and the results from this session seem to be that he is going through a stage of "letting go".  This seemed to be consistent with his behaviour patterns and it was good to see him feel better again, the heavy load in his head released.  I also had a session to release some of the stresses of past weeks and allow my body to relax and hormone levels to equalise.

That night both of us slept a deep and restful sleep, again reminding us of the importance of listening to our bodies and attending to our emotions as the needs arise.

Once home again, it was time to seriously organise my Mum's 90th Birthday.  She was not going to have any part in any kind of celebration.  I couldn't invite this person or that person.  This venue was not suitable nor was that one. Everything was too expensive and not worth it as we had bills to pay and Christmas is just around the corner.  It was excuse after excuse, argument after argument and it was truly exhausting but eventually a venue was agreed upon. Then I made an appointment to attend a local hairdresser for a simple cut and blow-wave. Considering she hadn't seen a proper hairdresser in years, I felt it was about time.  Again, day after day, excuse after excuse, until at last, I took her to the appointment and stayed to ensure she had a style that she was happy with.

So yesterday was the big day for her party and it was pleasing to see, that in the final week leading up to the party, she had decided to embrace it and starting inviting people from all over. From a function of barely having ten people, we now had the potential of twenty people turning up.  In a panic, I added extra catering, organised a cake and hoped for the best.


And as it turned out, it was a lovely, heartfelt afternoon with fancy
homemade finger food and some lovely people who were truly happy to see her and spend the afternoon with her.  She fussed around at first, but then settled in to enjoy the afternoon, showing photos and telling stories, playing piano and telling German folk-tales.  Sebastian was also a star attraction.  His youth, good manners and beautiful piano playing, made him the second centre of attention. He also seemed to enjoy performing piano and when the time came, he played Happy Birthday nice and loudly and perfectly and everyone sang along.  It was such an amazing afternoon, I couldn't have asked it to run any better.  Once all packed up and back home again, Mum continued to chat about the day and I haven't seen her so happy in a very long

time.  It warmed my heart and the arguments and frustrations melted away, although I was now totally spent, physically and emotionally and all I wanted to do was play video games with Sebastian.


I was so proud of him, as the entire afternoon from Noon til 5pm had been consumed with this party and he helped in every way that he could.  He never complained about it being boring, just chatted to people, helped with all the loading and unloading and played piano to entertain the guests.  Mum seemed to finally realise just how special her grandson is.  I reminded her that not many seven year olds would handle five hours of time with old people without a single complaint and I think she finally understood.  Eventually I managed to get out to Mark's old man-cave office and Seb and I played and played and enjoyed our time together.  This boy really is one in a million and I give gratitude every day that I have him in my life. 

So now I have four days of study left before my final exam of the year.  Today was particularly difficult to get of our bed and everyone in the house seemed to sleep in.  I tried hard to study today, but the brain needs a little more sleep, so tomorrow I will try again.  All I can think about is all the things I want to do after this exam on Saturday.  Painting, cleaning, cooking, gardening, Christmas shopping and decorating.  Relaxing, swimming, bike riding, reading...the list is endless.  I only hope I can retain enough information to pass the exam and then I can truly relax for twelve wonderful weeks of summer bliss! Ah...I can taste the Pina Colada already!

Post Number 59 - What Grief Can Do

Literally thirty minutes after my last post, after feeling so smug and smart with myself, I received a phone call.  It was the police and they called to advise that they had recovered my car!  In shock, I asked where it was, only to be told, "at Glenelg, a street up further from where you stated you parked it!" WHAT??  That can't be.  I jumped in the hire car and raced down there.  The policeman was very nice and told me not to worry and that it has happened to many people.

As I drove, I recollected that evening.  I wasn't rushing and was feeling quite relaxed after a Reiki session that I had had that morning.  I racked my brain about everything I did, what streets I drove down, how quiet Glenelg was on that Monday night and how smug I felt about parking in a "free" car park so close to the Hotel.  But my car was parked quite a ways from the hotel.  No broken glass, no damage at all to the car.  Parking tickets on the window only 5 days old, yet it had supposedly been there for 23 days! Did I really park it here and just forget?  It doesn't sit right with me.  I remember parking in a two car park and yet it was now standing in a three car park, sandwiched between two other cars.  I remember looking for car parking signs to ensure I didn't have to buy a ticket, none seen on the night, yet now there was a 2 hour parking sign right next to the car.  I remember looking up and seeing the hotel and noticing how close I was, yet from this car park, the hotel view was blocked by other buildings.  Absolutely nothing made sense to me.  I thought seeing the car would jolt my memory and I would embarrassingly say "oh no, yes I remember now, I did park here not over there", but no such memory emerged.  Instead, I burst in to tears and blurted out to the police officer, " I didn't park it here, I didn't park it here".  "It's ok", the police officer kept saying.  "The car is in perfect order, no damage has been done and I have already contacted the council and you don't have to pay the parking tickets."

I inspected the car, looked inside the windows as my keys had been posted to the insurance company, so I was unable to open it up.  Everything inside looked as it should be.  The blanket folded neatly on the back seat, my sunglasses in the centre console, Sebastian's booster seat in the back.  "How could this of happened?", I kept asking myself.  "Have I truly lost my mind?" How could I face the world and tell them that the car had not been taken at all? Could I have lost part of my memory of that night?

I know the brain can do funny things.  People will often say that they forget where they put their keys or often forget which floor of the carpark they left their car.  I understand that feeling, of course, we have all done it.  But this is very different, as I truly feel that I can remember, yet, supposedly, I can't. Is it possible that I remember some things but have lost a part of my memory,  the part where I walked three times the distance than I thought I did?  That I remember walking up the street and noticing the houses and thinking this is where I parked rather than where I walked? It's giving me a headache, trying to figure it all out.

The three people who already know about this situation (excluding those I live with) have told me to not be hard on myself and that I should be happy that the car is back and not damaged, and that I hadn't yet signed up on another car, although I was literally days away of doing that.  The whole insurance payout was halted, hours before a money transfer. 

I'm not angry with myself.  I'm not saying to myself, "you stupid woman, what's wrong with you", but rather, "what happened? are you really sure? could you have? if so, what is happening to you?" I'm scarred.  Really scarred.  If I really parked there, and the evidence says I did, then what is happening to my brain?  Can I ever truly trust myself again? No wonder I have trouble studying for exams. It's not that I don't know the information, it's just that I can't remember it all.  My brain just doesn't seem to have the capacity. 

I know what you're thinking.  "Oh poor thing, she has been through so much and is under so much stress, it could happen to anyone".  I agree. But I still don't buy it.  I know grief effects the body physiology, that is a fact.  I also know that prolonged stress has major implications to the physiology on the body, also a fact.  Which is exactly why I had attended to these things with diet, Reiki and Chinese Acupressure, to counteract the effects of prolonged stress, and yet, here I am, writing this ridiculous story, in an attempt to give you some understanding of how grief changes you as a person.  It's not about feeling sad for your loss, it's not about depression, it's not about trying to forget what you have lost, and it's not about time will heal, even though those things can and do play a part. 

As you know, I am quite a capable person.  Sometimes I boast about it a little too much and I have been wondering why I do that.  Am I seeking approval, a pat on the back perhaps? Maybe. But maybe I was also trying to tell myself, by telling the world, that I am okay, when actually, the truth is, I'm not. I'm not okay.  I'm surviving, but that's not life.  I'm trying to be strong and a good role model for Sebastian, when really, I just want to crawl in a hole and die.  I want to create a lovely afternoon tea for my Mother's 90th birthday, but all she does is fight me on everything.  No matter what I do, it's no good, too much, too far, too expensive.  I have done nothing but scream at her for days.  And by scream, I mean scream so hard I strain my vocal cords.  Today I resorted to stamping my feet and jumping up and down, to try to get her to understand something.  She doesn't listen, won't listen, can't hear and won't bend.   Yesterday, I had a feeling that I burst a blood vessel in my brain.  I know we joke about it sometimes, but I actually had a physical feeling of something go pop! I think my whole body will go "pop" or "boom", just like in one of Sebastian's Treehouse Story books, where people's head blow off, but they just pick them up and pop them back on again and all is well!

I should be studying for an exam that I have this afternoon.  A practical exam where I show my skills at questioning a patient and recording their information.  I have practiced this many times and I was feeling confident.  But now I can't seem to get it together.  Maybe after getting all this off my chest and crying yet another river, I may be able to pull myself together and fake it for this afternoon.  Maybe going to Mt Gambier for the weekend will give me some much needed relief or maybe it will exacerbate it? I really don't know.  I really truly don't know.

Post Number 58 - When life throws you challenges

So if there is one thing that has been a strong lesson in all that we have been through, it is that there is only one person in life that I can rely on, and that's me. Not Sebastian, not Mum, not friends, not family.  Just ME! If there was only one life lesson that I could teach Sebastian it would be that one. Having faith in yourself, that you can manage any situation, is something many do not know or understand, but I live it every day. 

Friends are wonderful to have, share a laugh with, have a meal with, maybe even a movie or a night out, but when life gets tough, everyone is busy with their own problems and life situations, and that is perfectly ok and understandable. 

I have been a very independent person since my first marriage failed and never again did I want to rely on a man to get me through life.  But I was only 20 when I first married and I had no idea what life was about.  When I met Mark, I was in a position of power.  A manager in the male dominated field of IT and I always had to work harder than others to prove my worth. 

When Mark and I began living together, we had a mutual respect for each other.  We both valued each others opinions, ideas and skills and together we were an awesome team, both at work and at home and at parenting.  While I never relied on him, it was so very nice to share the load of life with someone equally as capable as me.  Carrying that load now solo is hard, draining and exhausting.  It's not that I am not capable, its just a lot.  Every decision, if it is financial, time away, what to eat, what activities and sports should Seb do, just e-v-e-r-y thing, is up to me.  No one to discuss with, bounce ideas with, just me, myself and I.

Imagine my shock when one Monday evening, I park my car in a well lit side street at Glenelg, to attend a function at the Grand Hotel.  After the function, I decide to have a drink with a friend so we could just have a good chat about how crazy life can be.  I return to the place that I left my car, only to find a pile of glass on the ground and no car.  In shock, I ring my friend and she quickly arrives with her car and drives me home, while I contact the police.

Days later two men were arrested for stealing cars by towing them away, cars that usually cannot be stolen or driven without the original key.  I was in shock for days, hoping and praying that my beautiful newish car that I had only purchased in January this year, would be found and returned to me.  But alas, it was not to be.  Dismayed but still hopeful that everything would work itself out, I picked up a hire car (as part of my insurance) and went on with my life, occasionally looking at car sales websites and taking the odd car for a test drive.  Weeks go by, the car all but lost and the prospect of having to deal with "Car Salesman" not my idea of a good time.  A single mother with a young child, many of those vultures were secretly rubbing their hands together.  I resisted many times, from kicking them in groin and simply walked away. 

The stresses of study and exams has now started to kick in and it has now been three and a half weeks since my car disappeared.  I keep telling myself, it's just a car, get over it and buy another.  But there was something special about that car.  It had so many gadgets and special features, a top of the range model for it's year.  It was also my first big, financial, bold move as an individual to purchase this particular car.  I had little advice or help from anyone and it was a decision based on "gut feel". It represented ME.  This was MY car, not OUR car that was bought for me as my last car had been.

I waited anxiously for the insurance company to give me the payout figure, which was to be "market value". Another weekend passed us by and still no word.  The loan car due back in just a few days, I started to push the company harder to give me a figure so that I could properly negotiate with car dealers.  Eventually the phone call came and my heart sunk as the value provided was some $7,000 less than I had originally paid.  Already anticipating this, I kindly asked who I needed to speak to regarding the valuation.  I quickly did some research and made the call. Within 2 hours, I had brought the price up over the "book value" price, and am now in a much better financial position to actually replace the car with another of equal or better standing.

As an ex-IT person, I do love technology and gadgetry.  Leather seats, alloy wheels, wipers that automatically come on when the window gets wet, headlights that automatically come on when it gets dark and the ability to play music from my collection on my phone or from my music subscription, are all features that I loved so much and made that car special and individualised for me.  Maybe it is all the years of hanging out with Mark that has influenced me in that way, who knows.  But at least that stress is over and I feel quite accomplished at recovering most of the money that I lost from that vehicle, when most people said it couldn't be done.  I do love proving people wrong! Maybe it is my defiant nature, I don't know why.  When someone says "you can't do that", I say, "just watch me".

So for now I will return the loan car, complete an exam and drive around in the "old girl" until the right car comes my way.  I'm not going to compromise and buy an entry level vehicle.  If I have to wait until I have more money, then so be it.  Uni lectures are over for this year and I only have exams to go in to the city for.  I can use public transport if need be.  Either way, I will manage.  The right car will come along and will be waiting for me to swoop in and drive it away.  And those male chauvinistic car salesman better watch out or I may just lose all self control and kick them where it hurts. I have been through so much pain, hurt and loss, I can deal with this and again, Sebastian will learn this life lesson of resilience and self-belief and if this is the purpose of this whole situation, then so be it.  It was worth it.