THE MOMENT IS NOW
On Friday 08 August 2025, I lost one of my oldest and closest friends. I am still in shock. How can this be true? In the space of a heartbeat, she simply ceased to exist. How is this possible?
Tag: friends
MY EMOTIONAL BOUNDARIES
Highly sensitive people are often empathic and empaths often feel other people’s emotions radiating out like a solar flare. No amount of 50+ sunscreen can shield the soft flesh from the onslaught of heat – so we absorb it. Which is fine, because not all emotions are dreary. Joy, hope and excitement wash through me in the same way as grief, fear and despair. Trouble is – I don’t let it go. I spend more time grieving and despairing for someone else’s woes than they do. I’m more invested in other people’s problems than they are. This seems like an inappropriate boundary – not to mention, an excuse to stop dealing with my issues.
PINKY PROMISE
On 29 July 2018, I met a girl. A real girl. Due to the vagaries of distance and finances, we couldn’t meet in real life – until 44 days ago. That girl has changed my life.
HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE MARIA
There is something incredibly healing about being so close to nature and having the time and freedom to just explore. I challenge anybody not to be calmed by the beauty of a sunset over the painted cliffs, the vista atop the peaks of Bishop & Clerk, or a baby wombat poking its head out from mum’s pouch for the first time.
TUNE IN TUNE OUT
I don’t know where it comes from as I listened to it prattling away for half a century and it’s only recently I noticed another voice hidden in the background.
BURDENED
When the burden of being a burden becomes so burdensome the burden can no longer be bourne, it’s crunch time. Disappear into Wonderland with the big white rabbit, going permanently mad? Or just go – permanently? Or do what needs to be done and reach out? Clearly the latter is the healthier option.
HERE’S WHAT I REMEMBER
Salty tears stream down my face, landing on the corners of my lips before dripping off my chin. The deep magenta flush glowing on my cheeks, a stark contrast to the enormous grey circles appearing beneath my reddened eyes.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME
It’s my 53rd birthday today – I’m ten years older than I used to be. And potentially ten years younger than I’m going to be. I don’t know if that makes me young or old – I think it just makes me 53.
ROLL ON 2019
For me – I feel good about 2019. I choose to believe the worst of my grief and issues are behind me and my journey forward is now much closer to everyone else – ie I’m sure I won’t get everything right but I’ll try not to make a royal fuck up every time a little snag comes my way. I’m calling resolutions ‘goals’ this year.
IT’S TIME
If you’d told me three years ago that my poor, long suffering psychologist would still be listening to my woes at the end of 2018, I would have said, No way! (Possibly in much stronger language.) But here we are, 42 months later, and I still grace her couch on a regular basis. And not just for the lols.
MISUNDERSTOOD
It’s a delusion to think anybody genuinely knows us, and when faced with evidence telling a tale different to the one we believe, the ramifications can be genuinely distressing.
TRAVELS IN PORTUGAL
I arrived in Lisbon a mental mess. The two hour flight from Pisa airport, on our most budget airline, turned me into a blithering ball of batshit crazy. It was time to see a doctor before my oldest and dearest friends traded me in for a better model.
TRAVELS IN PARIS
The Arc de Triomphe was within spitting distance of our hotel (we elected not to spit on it). Of all the iconic Parisienne landmarks, this was our favourite. It’s enormous – towering in the center of the Place Charles de Gaulle, with 12 streets radiating out in all directions. We explored Paris on foot, meandering almost all 12 at one time or another.
COMING UP FOR AIR
During the last week I had a rapid escalation in suicidal ideation. As each day became more exhausting than the last, the desire to succumb to eternal sedation was overwhelming. I sobbed my little heart out in a manner I can’t recall doing for a long, long time. I could have reached out to any one at any moment in time, but when I desperately yearn death, the last thing I can do is tell anybody. Telling means acquiescing to living and I have to be ready for that. But more significantly, telling someone means burdening them once again with sadness and worry.
THE DAY AFTER
It’s the day after a migraine. Yesterday was the worst in a very long time. It was once suggested I “write into” a migraine – stop whatever I’m doing and write about how I feel. I assume that person never had a migraine – writing is the last thing on earth I do when my eyes can barely open. Usually I take medication when I feel a migraine coming on, then a few hours later I’m spacey but pain free. Not so this time.