My baby,

 

I would like to tell you it is ok, the shakes will stop. I would like to tell you not to worry, you will remember. I would like to tell you everything is normal, and all is well...

 

But I can not lie to you.

So I say this:

When your little hand shake,

and you feel the eyes of others watching you,

think of my hand over yours,

and feel the calm return ever so true.

 

When you struggle to spell

the simple word that escape your mind,

just think of me sounding it out,

and watch the word unwind.

 

When you feel a bit like a freak,

and your jaw don't allow you to speak,

know that I will give you the words

and all you'll have to do is tweak.

 

When you make a joke that is only funny to you

and others tease you for 'childish' ways

know that I am a child with you

and will laugh and play for all your days!

 

And baby, when you feel sad and lonely,

because nobody else understand

just stand close to your mom,

I will guide you through and hold your hand!

 

I have your back, my sweetest child, and no matter that life sometimes get wild, I love you dearly and always will... add to that your daddy's love and care, and together we will make it there!!!

 

X X
MOM

Right,

So I am slightly dwunk. Had a tequila night out with the husband and a coleague (sp?! I'l check in the morning)

 

THis is prolly one of them posts best made when sober and you rememer the night before.. but for now.. I feel summat giggly and a whole lot... lets just say I am off to have ralations with me hubby.. whether he wants/likes it or not.

 

*grins*

 

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila... anyone got hangover?!

 

 

It is amazing how small trips out with the family can become such a healing and comforting event.

 

It has been a while since I've laughed, TRULY laughed. Most of the times I get comments about 'haunting looks' in my eyes, and fake happiness on my lips.

 

My heart was not in it. But we HAD to go buy things for the kittens. They are growing,and if I am going to forster more kittens later on, then I might as well get these things sorted now.

 

We had the foster kid with us, so Me, Hubby, Gi and HouseMonsters...

 

Husband was entertaining the girls, and slowly, while watching them, I felt the part of my soul that I still control defrost. A genuine smile broke through.

As time goes by, the girls turn to "MOM" to "PROTECT" them from the "ALIEN" and a giggle escape while I distract said Alien.

 

Housemonster had me in stitches when she karate kicked a rather stinking water container AND MISSED, while GI had me litterally rolling on the floor when she tried to move the same container (She is only but a small framed little girl!!!) and it didn't move!

 

When the Alien kicked the container, and the stinking water splattered all over him... that was the last straw, and my soul went soaring! He chased me down (I am OCD and freaked out over the dirty water drops on him- you don't know where it came from!) and demanded a hug. Between the swearing, punching, kicking and yes... more laughing...  He managed to eventaully pin me down... and take a kiss that clearly did not belong to him....

 

It was a wonderful feeling - in fact, it was awesome to just feel again! 

 

Thank you my family, thank you for setting a part of my soul free again!!

 

X X X

My dearest, Darling Husband,

 

We have had so many new experiences in the last year.

 

After all that was done, and all that was said... It looks like the two of us are the ones who ends up together... always. 

 

Know that no matter what, I have your back.

 

Thank you.

 

For every bit of support, for every bit of understanding.

 

Thank you.

 

For allowing me to find my own way home.

 

Thank you.

 

For giving me pleasures and treasures beyond glittering gold.

 

Thank you.

 

For stepping up when I was ready to step off.

 

Thank you.

 

For being the man you are, accepting me for the woman I am.

 

Thank you.

 

 

...stand accused.

 

The truth, as it is neglected to be told:

 

I was single. He was not. It was not MY intention to hurt, plunder or rape an already failing relationship. It was my intention to give support, uplift and bring happiness to the person involved.

It was not for ME to say “Don’t” but for HIM to say “NO”.

 

One year down the path, and I still stands accused.

 

I was told that he was desperate –I agree, he was.

 

Desperate for acceptance

Desperate for love

Desperate for passion

Desperate for understanding

Desperate for FUN

Desperate for support

Desperate for enjoyment

Desperate for fulfillment
Desperate for stability

Desperate for individuality

Desperate for just BEING.

 

Yes, I admit, he was desperate. I seem to have eased his desperation somewhat.

 

I could give him, unconditionally, all of the above.  

 

He did the same for me… as my desperation was in equal measures to his.

 

So I still stand accused.

 

I accept that there are perceptions. Can you accept that there is more to this than what you and your perceptions bring to the table? You hide behind anonymity, what are you afraid of?

 

I face my problems head on.

 

It was not an AFFAIR. It was a period of time in our lives that is to be treasured and to be remembered as good times.

 

I am the first to admit to my mistakes – THIS WAS NOT A MISTAKE.

 

So fair do’ s to you my dear. Taking up a flag and waving it like a righteous holy being.

 

Fair do’s to you.

 

As for being alone.

Never again.

I have my self.

As for being lonely – there is a cure for that too.

 YOU, on the other hand, need to seek your own cures en evaluate your intension with what you have brought into the public.

Somehow I am not sure that anyone appreciates your efforts.

 

Put that in your pipe (or up your pipe) and smoke it.

I am fooked off. I am livid. I am beyond any reasonable, coherent form of help!!

 

In the news today:

 

Man gets 5 years for stealing bicycle.

Turn Page

Man gets 3 years for rape.

 

WHAT THE FOOK IS GOING ON?!!!!!

 

Then, I joined a group on Facebook, supporting 'LIFE' for pedophiles.

Some person tells me:

How dare you, with therapy they can be cured, and if they promise not to do it again, then they can get on with their own lives! IF they do it again.. THEN CONSIDER LIFE?!

"Says Daniel Brown: I think a person who has been convicted of a sexual crime on a child and does his custodial sentence has done all the therapy sessions and the parole board deem him or HER as a safe person to go back out into the community who is genuinely remorseful of the crime they have comitted then that person should be allowed to go on and get on with his or HER life, thats my opinion. But if that person then goes on to comitt another crime then that person should go away possibly for a minimum life sentence."

 

EXCUSE ME?!!

 

Says HellsBunny:

There is no therapy in the world that can cure mental retardation - and in many cases, that is exactly what these pple are. Once is one time enough. A child WILL suffer for the rest of their lives - so why must this person get 'therapy' and be 'excused'? Daniel - so IF they get out, AND they do it AGAIN, only THEN do they get sent away for life? WHY must ANOTHER person/child get HURT before action is taken? There is no cure for this. You tell me to go post somewhere else - We are talking crime and sentences... personally, I think ALL crime should be punished in equal proportions to the damage that is done mentally and emotionally to the parties involved!!! In the UK, I read on one page : Man gets 5 years for stealing a bicycle. On the VERY next page: Father gets 3 years for rape!! WTF?!!!

 

Daniel - What makes you think I don't?!!!!!  (I support death for murderers too!)
1. If I evade my tax, but never did any other crime, I can get jail time.
2. If I have an accident with my car, and someone got killed, I can go to jail.
3. If I defend myself from a rapist by killing him/her, I can go to jail.
4. If I scam the government I can go to jail.

YET...

IF I RAPE, MURDER or OTHERWISE ENGAGE IN ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES... I go to therapy whilst in jail, and if I say 'sorry' I can go home and promise not to do it again?!

Effectively, someone who evades taxes is then put in the same class as a paedophile, rapist, murder?

Gangsters, my friend, get their ranks through committing the crimes above. THeir goal IS to get into jail so that they can get their recognition. They are let out on parole, bail and even after 'sentences' are done... and they do the exact same things again, and again, and again... HOW ON EARTH is that 'justice'?

WHY NOT PUT THEM AND US OUT OF THE MISERY?! WHY must I teach MY children about the dangers of the world, when at least 30% of my hard earned money goes towards 'saving the souls of the criminals with more human rights than you'. It bothers me. It aggravates me. And yes, maybe no jail on this planet will do anything about it, but it does not mean I have to 'accept' it.

 

Says Daniel: "I firmly believe that therapy does work and can work its very easy to say "well lock them away for life" i dont think that is the answer, but adri you are right that the victim should never ever be forgotten."

 

Says HellsBunny:

Therapy don't work.

Sadly, it is my JOB to know.

You stand firm in your believe, good for you.

How firm will you stand when your son or daughter is laying at your feet crying and you tell them 'Don't worry hon, we will make sure this person gets therapy and a few years in jail. You will see them again, as soon as they say sorry.'

 

 

*/me reminds meself to breathe....

 

 

 

 

The problem with being me is that one minute I am up and the next split second I am down. This would not be such a predicament if I was talking about the unspeakable deeds done by raunchy monkeys… It is a rather funny, sometimes embarrassing and often crippling experience if you are me.  

 

As a kid, my shrink pretty much told my mother “She is a menace to society and should be removed”.  Personally I thought he was exaggerating and thank any deity that could be bothered with the likes of me that my mother felt the same. I did however choose to take the advice of that self destructive voice in my head; chased a chemist full of painkillers (Voltarins & Myprodols) with a liter of neat vodka.

 

I had a headache and I was thirsty; the shrink episode did that at times you know!

 

The headache is still there, but I have developed a nervous tick.

 

Stepping back a little:

At the age of 9 I was diagnosed with ADHD (Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). FOOKING WHOOPLA!  

 

Not even the steroid strength amounts of ‘uppers and downers’ also known as Ritalin and Strattera could help me out of those episodes.

 

Never grew out of it

 

Throughout the years I have had extreme mood swings, racing thoughts (yes, you all know about that!) irritability and unusually extreme energy and thoughts of violent crimes against myself.

 

I thought I had Naomi Cambell’s period!!! 

 

I was told then… “OH, don’t worry honey; you only have BIPOLAR Disorder and Mania (Manic Depressive illness) and yes… still ADHD!!!!”

 

 So now… put yourself into my shoes and imagine this:

 

 I am walking down the fruit and vedge isles in the supermarket.

 

Wait a minute… did I say walk? No I let’s speed that up to compensate for the ADHD (I hate shopping anyway!)

 

I am bouncing through the fruit and vedge isles in the supermarket.

 

I am highly strung and irritable. The crowds, the prices, the lady with the lint on her butt (OH! GOD, I FORGOT TO MENTION I AM OCD TOO!!!) makes me want to cry while rapid thoughts of committing suicide by ramming dried orange peels straight up my nostril and into my brains plough through my head.

That thought, in turn, makes me laugh at myself to suddenly stop and become angry at the way the woman in front if me is squeezing and bruising the avocado.

 

Now imagine doing all of this so fast doing all of this so fast. Doing this too, knowing that I will probably forget why I came to the supermarket in the first place and due to my poor impulse control I may actually stab someone with a cucumber – IF I don’t get distracted first.

 

NOW imagine having three to four voices in your head at all times contradicting each other, even during this trying period of NOT being schizophrenic. Then be informed that I have JUST arrived at the fruit and vedge stand, which is at the FRONT of the shop, the minute you go through the turn styles.  

 

Now… imagine you know none of this, and you come across a woman who is trying to slice orange peels with a cucumber, fencing at the bystanders, IN TEARS, at a rate of knots; Just to see her suddenly laughing hysterically as she manically shouts at what appears to be herself to ‘stop’ and telling all the bystanders that she is ‘OK’.

 

 

 

Funny? Maybe… if you are not me dealing with this on a day to day basis while counseling teenagers on behaviour disorders and giving them coping tools.

 

AND WHY DO YOU THINK I SUCCEED?! 

 

Because it takes a crazy to tame a crazy I guess. I have also managed to fake my way through a day as a normal person for the last 36 years. Only short episodes of these things would however give my game away every now and again. The tools I am using everyday has become the exact coping tools I am giving to teenagers… which makes me wonder… is all of this bullshit and I am merely stuck in my teen years?

 

For none of this do I take meds though. It would not do. The amount of uppers and downers I would have to cocktail at any given time would clash with the chemo that I may or may not have to take from time to time; clash in such a terrible way that you may end up with the first human nuclear implosion acting as an explosion.

 

 But wait, there’s more!!!

 

NOW take ALL that... And add hormone problems to it.  WooT!! I have been diagnosed with menopause at the age of 26!!!  So whilst going through ALL of the above, I do it with heat flushes and hormonal imbalances that escalates the cry/laugh ratio in a negative balance leaning towards schizophrenia (which. I reiterate, the docs say I DON’T have).

 

 Lovely INNIT?!  So every time anyone of you say:

“Bunny, you’re a loon” know that you may be more correct than you can ever EVER imagine!!!!

I was dying for a cup of coffee when the argument broke out.

 

"Sit down."

 

"No."

 

"Sit down!"

 

"NO!"

 

"I'm warning you..."

 

"What are you going to do? Leave me? Totally ignore me like you do sometimes?"

 

There was a moment of silence. I heard birds chirping and dogs yapping excitedly. HouseMonster ignores me a little bit longer. I can hear the droning of a 'tractor-like' lawn mower in the field across the road. I could smell flowers. And I swore someone was barbecuing.

 

"It is spring, you know?"

 

"It will still be spring when you get done, too."

 

"You have no soul."

 

"You lack discipline."

 

"Oh yeah?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Mom?" HouseMonster looks worried.

 

"Stupid muse," I answer. "All she can think about is that I have a  work due. She doesn't care about spring. She doesn't care about me. All she cares about is 'the work getting done.'"

 

"Well, can you argue a little quieter so the police don't show up again and you have to explain about your muse and then they ask if you want to go to the clinic and talk with someone professional?" - This time from the husband-man-of-my-life.

 

"You got us in trouble again," I whispered.

 

"Me? You're the one dragging this out."

 

I hated to admit but my muse was right. I was late with my forum posts. Plus I'd already used the "studying" excuse twice.  I'm not sure anyone  would buy that one again.

 

I sighed, turned my attention to the computer. My fingers so wanted to type "The End" instead they typed "Bunny's Chronicles – Page One. Zero Words."

 

"There, you happy?"

 

"Brilliant beginning. It's amazing you don't have a Pulitzer."

 

"That's funny; you should be in an 'a-Muse-ment' park."

 

"I think I hear a police cruiser," my husband now turns to me annoyed and eyeballs me from underneath his headset.

 

I was about to say something clever to one or both of them when the Housemonster gently puts her hand on my arm...

 

" Mom... Can we go rollerblading?"

 

"ROLLERBLADING! YESSSSS!"

 

"Tell her no," the muse said. "Tell her you have work due. The website copy is not going to write itself. Tell her…"

 

I pulled the hand- knee- and elbow guards from the shelve, grins at myself in the mirror and said: "I'm benching you!"

 

"Great," the muse said. "Don't expect me to be here when you get back."

 

Ten minutes later we were in the park. Me, hubby and HouseMonster.  This was more like it. Family. And sun. And spring.

 

"I love you, you love me…" Bewildered I wonder what Barnie is doing in my head now!

 

Sitting flat on the floor, tying my laces up, and making sure that everything is comfortable to avoid blisters later on...

 

"Are you going to be much longer?" HouseMonster asked.

 

"Ha! She's the biggest procrastinator in the world."

 

"I thought you were gone," I said to the muse.

 

"You wish."

 

"Let's GO MOOOOM" HouseMosnter said.

 

On my feet in a whizz, grabbing hubby as he pass by and wondering AGAIN why I never learned to stop or turn properly with these things!

 

"How's THAT for low flying?" I ask no-one in particular.

 

"I would describe it more as a "wimpy pop-fly." the muse said.

 

"Like you could do better."

 

"On one leg."

 

"Ha!"

 

"Double ha!"

 

"Who's she arguing with?" HouseMonster asked.

 

"The muse," Hubby-love-man-of-my-life answers.

 

"What's a muse?" HouseMonster asked.

 

"Errrr like an imaginary friend that tells her what to write," Hubby-love-man-of-my-life answers.

 

"Isn't she to old to have imaginary friends?"

 

I heard a snicker.

 

"Laugh it up, you know what the title of my new post is going to be? – Death of Stupid Muse. Now what do you think?"

 

The muse was quiet for a minute, and then said: "Better start running to catch me, you're not very good on rollerblades."

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip and no hair!

There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE THE FOOK IS THE WAX???

Nevermind that... I will continue this story with a follow-up. "How NOT to bleach your hair"

 

"Why me Lord? What have I ever done?"

 

Well, not really that bad but quite honestly, I am in a seriously cramped headspace right now. The voices in my head are protesting – and usually, NOTHING can get THEM to cower in a corner!

 

So.

 

I finished the first part of my psychology course, and decided to take a short break from the intensity of mental health concerns and the various ways of treating this. To substantiate the break, I signed up for one year journalism course combined with a Creative Writing Course (recommended by my Editor!)

 

(Two year’s work I need to cram into a six month period before I tackle part two of Psychology & Psychiatry!)

 

Easy peasy….

 

Then I read the guidelines on the course material that I received this afternoon:

“Find a quite place, away from friends and family – every day – to do your writing.”

 

There. Right there. I am failing this course without a doubt.

 

AWAY FROM FRIENDS AND FAMILY?! DUDE!! It is SO not going to happen!

 

Currently, I have my 11year old daughter, singing at the TOP of her lungs “C is for CEREAL” and “Let’s do the WEDGY WIGGLE!!!” Her dad, on the other hand, is encouraging her by shouting “I am a Potato!” and randomly picking body parts to ‘tickle’ “Hold still baby, I want to get your spleen”

 

My muse is having a nervous breakdown! She really had a great ole time hysterically chuckling while I am trying to scrape together one coherent, non-belligerent sentence…

 

My study material reckons that I should write 300 words on “Why you think you should be published” and all I can think of is… “C IS FOR CEREAL!”

 

And

 

 “Peanut butter jelly, Peanut butter jelly… peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat!”

 

Thanks. That is lovely. It is going to be a very very very long year.  

'It will not fit!" Prince Charming yelled, "your stinking foot's too wide,
If I had feet just half as foul, I'd find some place to hide!
My arms and legs are aching and my back is getting stiffer,
And I'm losing count of feet I've tried to stuff into this slipper!

She should have left her bra instead, that would have been much kinder,
To make this hands-on exercise a lovely way to find her!"
"Do not despair, " his butler said, "You'll triumph in this venture,
Be thankful that she left her shoe, it could have been her denture!"

The butler then looked up to see the beautiful Snow White.
Who'd been working late at Disneyland, and missed the ball last night.
If you can get that slipper on," he whispered with a smirk,
You'll win the greatest lover to have ever chased a skirt."

Snow White responded angrily, "He's useless as a lover!
I've had no luck with seven dwarfs, why should I want another?"
He has no brain between his ears, it's one huge vacant space!
Who else would choose his future wife and not recall her face?"

And then there was a flash of light, a blooming cloud of smoke.
A husky voice came from that cloud and to Prince Charming spoke.
"I'm sorry I must interrupt this most befitting scene,
Take my advice, release that foot, you don't know where it's been!"

"I am your Fairy Godmother, or rather her assistant.
I didn't want to come here, but the old bat was insistent!"
Then as the smoke began to clear the strangest form appeared,
A cross-eyed fairy came in view, with hairy legs and beard!

"You have no chance" Prince Charming scoffed, "Your foot looks like a kipper,
With bunions and those blackened nails, it won't fit in this slipper!
Explain yourself, I warn you now, you'll suffer if you fail.
To justify and verify your hairy-fairy tale!"

"My boss told me to tell you that you're seeking Cinderella,
A stunning young transvestite and a really lovely fella.
He has two ugly sisters who in truth are Cindy's brothers,
And his father is his mother. We're not sure about the others!"

And so Prince Charming's search was done, since he now knew the name.
But with that knowledge came the truth and nothing was the same!
The tingle of the chase was gone, the flame of passion dead.
Perhaps he'd have an early night and wash his hair instead!

Sometimes I sit here with my eyes closed,
my head hurting and my mind
reeling casting black and white
images in the hollow space
where once my heart used to be.

Sometimes I feel the invisible blood
seeping from my eyes to leave a
stainless mark on my pillow as my
soul bleeds from the gashing wound.

Sometimes the memories overwhelm
my senses and for a second I forget
that my heart is missing and my soul
is bleeding - and I laugh.

Sometimes, For a short while the sound is uplifting,
until it bounce off an echo and slams
back into the raw emotions where
you used to be.

Just sometimes.

Most of the time I am just peachy though.

Please don't expect too much. That way you can never be disappointed!