IN SEARCH OF LOVE
Childhood is a tricky time. As is parenting. And while the vast majority of parents do the very best they know how, sometimes it just isn’t enough. Sometimes the scars last a lifetime.
Childhood is a tricky time. As is parenting. And while the vast majority of parents do the very best they know how, sometimes it just isn’t enough. Sometimes the scars last a lifetime.
January 28 will forever be a memorable day in my life. It is the day my mother was born. And it is the day my father died.
Well a wedding is one thing, but discovering a little piece of Indonesia that rarely sees foreigners is a whole other exciting […]
I am so proud, excited and overwhelmed to share the story of my son’s marriage with you. It has been an exciting […]
Becoming a grandma brings back all those beautiful memories of becoming a mum. Being a new mum brought me – without a doubt – the happiest times of my life. I love newborn babies.
These past few months I have felt so exceptionally well. I am not sure if this is just a natural progression of psychological recovery combined with pharmacological support. Or if I’m just living in this deluded bubble of happiness because all my cards seem to be turning up trumps right now. But either way, I feel really well. Really, really well.
Everything in life is transitory – the good, the bad. The ugly, the beautiful. Nothing lasts and my father’s demise and death […]
My dad was awesome. He was kind, compassionate, energetic, funny, generous, gentle, inspiring, nurturing, patient, talented and so much more. Gordon Lindsay Yemm arrived on 23 March 1933 to Olive and Leonard Yemm – and he came bundled with his other half, Norman.
I have been on this earth for 20,062 days. Today is the first day I draw breath without my father. Despite knowing this day was not only inevitable but imminent, I’m still consumed with grief. There’s no easy way to farewell the man that gave me life. The first man I ever loved and the one who set the bar so high for future love.
I don’t know if my official mental health diagnosis is bipolar II – or not. There appears to be no consensus on anything aside from the fact I have emotional dysregulation and severe insomnia issues. In my opinion, those two things are more than enough to make anybody go crazy. But mental health diagnosis or not, my life is full of highs and lows.
It bothers me when I don’t write in my blog. Not because I think my writing is doing anyone a public service, but because this forum is my outlet for internal rumination. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s internal rumination.
The universal human need to be needed. The basic human rights of love, care and acceptance. The intimacy of belonging to community. These are the emotional truths I wish to explore. How my needs, rights and sense of belonging have, and have not, been met. The consequences to me, and to everyone I connect with, from my lack of self-love.
Dear Vanessa, My beautiful darling sister – I miss you and I love you. I hear you and remember you every time I hear your favourite songs
There are many people in my world who have wronged me. No more than anyone else – we all deal with irritating twats, ignorant loudmouths, and just plain rude arseholes. Forgiving the sins – big and small – of others, is a powerful tool that benefits the forgiver more than than the forgiven. At the end of the day, most irritating, ignorant, arseholes are probably blissfully unaware of their foot-in-mouth disease.
I know his story intimately well. September 17 1968. I’m just two and a half when Christian is born at Calvary Hospital. Five weeks later he’s gone. A perfectly healthy baby boy, dying in his sleep. Sudden infant death syndrome the doctors said. A syndrome. It’s not how my parents describe it.