I miss hugs

Nick hornby wrote it first

In About a Boy

2 isn’t enough

2 leaves you as 1

and I can’t do 1

the life I carry is too heavy for me alone

the words I need to speak need to be shared among the many

not the very few.

And when the 1

isn’t there again

because of pain

or inability

or the weapon that they hold far too close to your heart

that really makes them much more of a half

wouldn’t  you say?

So 1.5 really isn’t enough

So what do you do

When you had 3

and 3 decided they

would just opt out?

They’re fine

happy even

their world is turning

no dramas

just no space for you anymore

Just? Perhaps

‘Cause who would deny anybody choice

and think that number

implied a contract that must be fulfilled

Not the girl

who was brought up to

think that she never even deserved the 1

that her small 0 of space begrudged her.

But to just drop out

without a word

no sound to

fade away

to just not define

to never say I can’t do this

or I don’t want to

so undefined

and then ignoring pain of one apparently once loved?

I don’t undertand

and the consfusion pounds

and tears run, run and

sobbing gathers storm like

clouds words and meanings silence and sound.

The world is dimmer, lost

so much more alone for want of one

simply because I awarded them a number

a stutus and

the power to do

far, far more damage than

they ever even knew.

The power to destroy with

a simple thoughtless act

the power to damage

to cause scars that

will not ever fade.

And finally I understand

why other 1′s like me choose

to stay as 2

or even 1.5

because the option

the option leaves you like this

lost and curled up around the stabbing

loss for weeks and months and memories of only good

when you know there was acres of bad.

At least with only 1 there

the chance of hurt is halved

although no less likely-

But that would be me

the girl who draws the pain

the girl who awards numbers to the ones who cause most damage.

And that leaves me here

world dimmed agony of loss

over nothing relaible in the first place.

Longing for a

safe place to land.

Missing completely lost.

A post that is not all about Acting but In which there is Gnashing of Teeth and a longing for 38point Bold

Okay – so here is the deal…I was studying, at some acting classes I thought would be excellent for me.

They weren’t.

They made my mental state very torrid and very tortured.

I chose to go to them for many reasons – such as not totally full time and a different approach as opposed to here Australian Academy of Dramatic Art.

I deferred for a semester, thinking if the classes didn’t work out I could go there mid-year.
I was very glad I did this when they told me that they were having a mid year intake and the Acting Classes I was in had driven me over the edge, dangling by a very, very fine thread.

I was not so glad when they told me that most likely they won’t be having an intake till next year – not enough students to make a worthwhile ensemble – makes perfect sense, can’t fault them for it, it is thoughtful and shows they are not all about money but instead a good acting course.

Problem being I was counting on that course for a social circle, for friendships outside of my very little real world consisting of five, on a good day.

I was counting on it for the opportunity to do something I loved, for free, and now I feel massively bereft.

I have enrolled in part time classes here The Actors Centre – which will be fantastic as it is the school I desperately want to attend on a full time basis – but they are only

1. a couple of nights a week

2. going to cost money

3.don’t start till the end of July.

In addition to this I have had DOC rushed to hospital after injuring his thigh (turned out to be nothing too major but made me realise how alone I am here – how much of a lack of actual REAL support I have),

I have been unwell and then rushed to hospital after passing out through drinking 8-10L of water a day for two weeks (made me realise that my GP when he said there was no upper limit to how much I can drink – is a fool ),

I have an infected toenail which means (oh joy) podiatrist tomorrow and, probably, (oh joy) nail removal (did I mention my Mum was a podiatrist and used to deal with my ingrown toenails with NO ANESTHETIC so now people touching my feet when they hurt freaks me out),

someone has made a DESIGNER SNUGGIE,

Have had several huge fights with DOC,

have realised that my children’s school for many reasons for want of a long explanation , sucks,

I have Seasonal Adjustment Disorder,

I am pre-menstrual

and now, NOW the fricking flat we are living in, which has a BILLION features that reminds me of my father’s house and thus triggers flashbacks and Very Bad Memories at every opportunity has Black Mold, severe Black Mold – the kind that makes you sick Black Mold IN EVERY ROOM BUT THE BATHROOM, oh and the fusebox sparks and burns fuses….

it is ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH (in 29 point bold).

Oh and did I mention we have no money to move house and are not eligible for the bond loan again till next year, it seems, in NSW.

And I am well aware my problems and crapness of life is nothing compared to others. But I am not others, I am me.

So here I am, Sitting in bed. Wondering what the hell to do.

Do I give up on The Actors Centre as I think I am not an Actors Centre girl – I didn’t get into there at the end of last year and I’m not overly confident and beautiful, as they all seem to be.

Do I stay in Sydney and go to AADA, which would be free, but was always felt like a kind of back up till I got into The Actors Centre.

Do I audition for National Theatre School – the only option left in Melbourne, thanks to Melbourne Uni and what they have done to the VCA,

(only the Nat and I have a history, auditioned twice and gotten in only to have to essentially pull out – once due to money being an issue, once due to having my heart broken and not being fit to breathe and think let alone act). – but it would mean being in Melbourne, I have family there, family who would help out if I needed them. Or are just a comfort by being. I know the schools, I know the doctors, I know the areas to live in.

Essentially I am terrified.

I want so much.

I want to be living somewhere non mouldy and non memory triggering. I want to be at an Acting school that I love. I want to be healthy and happy. truly happy. I want to feel like my life is not a living hell.

So what do I do? any help? advice? similar situations? Anyone know the way out of mental hell?

Photo 13 – I was happy :)

This photo was taken at the Maya Festival, 2008,  which was at CERES, in Brunswick East. If any Melbourne readers haven’t been there yet – go – it is kind of hippy/funky/cool and has great chai and a nice market on the weekends and lots of animals and vegetables for children to look at as well as a good play area for them and a brilliant bike place, where you take your bike and they teach you how to fix it and, and, (can you tell i really like it there?)

The festival was great – kind of like a mini Rainbow Serpant festival – and I wore something floral ( I know, I know I almost fainted in shock too – but it was summer and pretty) and the sky was blue and I was with kind and generous people who were lovely to hang out with and all was good.

This Parasol was just behind where we were sitting. It captures the feeling I get at the few festivals I’ve been to – that communal, trusting thing – I don’t know if it is just me being naive but I always feel like no one would hurt me there (in my wide experience of two, yes TWO music festivals) versus concerts and live venues where its always so cramped and almost selfish in the ‘who gets to the front, gets a better view, gets the merch first’ type stuff and keeping a constant eye on my belongings…

So yes, I like this picture a lot :) A hazy, hot spring day with music and friends :) Nice.

“Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush.”

Today I am 32. THIRTY- TWO. Thats like a proper grown up age. But maybe not.

And my child is sick.

And I am sick.

But I have recieved much twitter, email, text and chat love from my kind and lovely friends and family. Thank You.

So to make myself feel better I am putting up this picture (which is not mine) and letting myself off from writing the history behind a photo :)

(besides which the birthday ones I have from last year suck and aren’t in the next folder :) – although I have many of the ingrown toenail which I can show you if you want? hundreds of the bloody things. My Mother (ex-podiatrist-) was diagnosing and treating it via email – so if you ever want a pic of an ingrown toe nail – you know where to come)

(although I look ok in this one from my 30th – ah how I miss “Bar Nothing”)

Oh and I was given  this :) which has made me happy :) and is one of my Best Birthday Presents Ever.

So Maybe I’m not quite such an Eeyore after all…Or maybe I am – but at the end of the day with his balloon and useful pot.

Okay, so did anyone else laugh at “useful pot” – I am so not grown up – images of eeyores tripping dance through my head :)

Photo 9 ( I cheated on this one)

This is Panama – he is a very important soft toy Panda Bear. This photo was taken at the end of September 2008. I had a very cool camera and I could make certain colours change to others, so I made his black fur blue. He is extremely good company, just the right size and a lovely chap. I could tell you his life story, but instead I will put this photo in.

This was the hotel I stayed in, in Queenscliff, with Captain Jack Sparrow. It was lovely, really, really lovely and confirmed my belief that maybe I should indeed have been born in the 1800′s. The weekend was lovely, the place we were staying was lovely. It was just all lovely. And that is all I’m going to say about it, except – this is when I was getting better, my world was kind of spinning right…or starting to…amazing what can happen in one folder of photos.

——-

Oh thats right…

This was the weekend I came back to my parents house only to be almost thrown out. Because they hadn’t been able to contact me to tell me I shouldn’t have left my lap top under my bed during a house inspection (this was when they were trying to sell their house) No one would have seen it – but it was a huge huge issue.

I had to compromise, to promise to be out as much as I could, every weekend and most of the weekdays. I honestly couldn’t believe that this small act could lead to so much anger, so so much anger (there is more to it – but that was my part in it- honestly- aside from being unwell ) – So i suppose this picture is a weekend when I felt everything was right, but it was turning very screwed…

Photo 7 – Actually Leaving the House in Daylight Hours…

I’m pretty sure at some point I’ll make it through 2008 and into the realms of recent photography…but here we are, September 2008 at my childrens’ school Spring Fair…

This is actually part of a choir performance – and I cannot believe how young my girl looks and how happy. I miss that so much, and I hope she is still in there somewhere.

The Spring Fair was an annual challenge where you sign up to work on stalls to raise money for…something…I think it was the school (possibly). I had avoided stalls till this year when I wanted to be uber involved in my kids lives as i had missed out on so much (might write about that sometime, but that is a big expect to be judged on it thing, so it’ll wait a while)

So I worked on the badge stall (glee) and wandered around in a crowd (ARGH – considering where I was mentally at the time – I generally don’t like crowded places – at this time I loathed them) DOC was there, Bub 1, Bub 2, Capt’n Jack and I think my parents even turned up for a while.

It was a nice day, an actual nice day. It ended in a panic attack but it was a nice day. And led to one of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever been given – might blog about that one day too when the thought of that doesn’t make me cry more than I already am.

Because I look at the photos from that day and I cry – and I don’t know why – maybe because my babies were so much younger and so much easier and I’m so scared that the sweet and happy side of my children has been lost in a miasma of anxiety and frustration. Maybe because I am lonely, and as screwed up as my life was then, I wasn’t lonely. Maybe its just not having the anchor of my parents anymore – I think you can decide to move away from your parents, or they can die or you can disown them, but you still know they are there and right now its as though they don’t exist…

Either way – this is what the photo is of. My daughter and her best friend, happy.

And I hope she remembers that.

And I hope that can come back.

And it really bothers me that I can’t remember the shoes she is wearing *sigh*. How bloody April is that.

Photo 5- oh how impressed I am…

September 2008…I am out somewhere and very unimpressed by this fact it seems…

Let me first of all say I don’t usually wear pink. I went to a Reiki practitioner sometime that year and she told me Pink would be a healing colour for me. It didn’t work. Black works much better for me all round.

From what I can see in the progression of photos it was a bad night out, it was a night out with Captain Jack Sparrow, I was not feeling good at all but trying my best to be, as I tend to do.

I think I may have thrown a hissy-fit at some point – a fairly major one judging by the photos of me giving the camera the finger that appear later in the folder (ah- the folly of youth). Truth be told, I don’t remember this night. I don’t remember where I went. I don’t remember this mood, this moment, this ‘Big Bad’ that made me hate myself so much that night. I was sad and hurting me and probably hurting others and seratoninally messed up. So all in all the not remembering this night…

…I think that this is probably an okay thing.

Photo and Story Meme – Glee

Oh yay, I thought, when I went to Naomie’s Blog at “Under the Yardarm”, Another Blog to read, Glee! and a photo one, and it is beautiful and its a meme and I wonder who has been tagged and oh look..me..ME! GLEE! A post I can do without delving into my mind too much, and its kind of like the note things I used to do on Facebook, way back when I thought Facebook way waay better than twitter and spent *ahem* quite some time each day on it. Ah the follies of youth…anyway…here I am tagged in a photo meme started by Jodie at “Mummy Mayhem” ..and tagged by lovely Naomie, as I said before, but I seem to be in a Pooh Bear sort of mood today – much bumbling and just a little bit of fluff between my ears…so here we go…

1. Open the first/oldest photo folder in your computer library
2. Scroll to the 10th photo
3. Post the photo and the story behind it
4. Tag 5 or more people to continue the thread.

Oh shock – I’m a mum and its a photo of my children :) – This was taken in winter 2008 on my babies first trip to the snow. And it makes me cry. For lots of reasons. So lets hope for a coherent story shall we and maybe if I just contain myself to what is happening in the photo that will help.

We (being I, Bub 1 and Bub 2 (notice how their new psudonyms just did not stick – possibly because I could not spell it) and my then boyfriend/partner/what is the right word when you are over 30? – lets call him Captain Jack Sparrow- just for the coolness factor if nothing else- and the watching of “Pirates of the Carrabian” last night) Anyway, that perenthesis got out of control…

We went to the snow. Had been planning it for ages. Picked the kids up from DOC’s house early, left, drove to Dandenong, stopped as Bub 2 turned green, turned around, made it to the Clifton Hill Macdonalds, had breakfast, bub 2 felt better, so off we all went to Lake Mountain. Only by the time we got there the mountain was closed and there was a waiting line of cars, or so the rumour went in the shop where we stopped to hire taboggons, snow suits and gumboots.

The woman there was lovely and directed us to another mountain where the children happily played in what was essentailly a snow covered car park (at least I’m sure in Summer it is a car park) Sledding over blackberry bushes and building this partially built snowman.

Bub 2 kept eating the snow and they both discovered the fun passtime of throwing the snow at Mum because she throws it back.

And this story has gone down in the children’s mythology.

Not because it was the first time they saw snow.

Not because it was the first time they built a snowman.

Not because They Taboggoned.

But because Bub 2 almost threw up on the way there.

Sigh…

And I can only say ‘only my children’ and shake my head in a tearful, puzzled pooh bear sort of a way…..

(How the hell do you spell “Taboggon” I would not let it win otherwise they would all be ‘Sled”)

Now to tag five others…

DOC from Drawing Dad

Thea from “Do I really Want To Blog”

Josie from “Sleep is For the Weak

Cosmic Girlie from “Journey of the Mocha Beanies and Mummy”

Seraphim from “Ah. The Possibilities”

There we go :) Happy Photo-looking and writing :)