Memories of Joel

•November 11, 2015 • 2 Comments

I remember the day you were born, just as I remember the day you died. I also have such fond memories of our time in between those two days. You were only here for 17 years, but you were a massive part of my life for that time.

Growing up next door to 3 boys was always an adventure. We all lived in each others pockets, often sneaking out before our respective parents woke up, to hang out and ride bikes or shoot hoops or any of the other awesome things we often did together.

As the youngest, you had four of us to look out for you. You were my littlest brother. We shared a lot in common as you grew up. I introduced you to my music and later, we shared a love for dance music. We taught you to ride a bike, something that you later took one step further, being able to ride and do tricks competitively. We swam and swam and swam, boy we spent so much time in that pool.  Our families often merged into one as we all celebrated things like birthdays and christmas, or we just had a bbq dinner in summer.

It seemed so idyllic, but I never realised that underneath your smiling facade something dark lurked.

That day I was going to come up and say hello. But I ran out of time. It didn’t matter, I’d drop in later in the week.

That night, when my phone rang and my Dad uttered those awful words, my world turned upside down and I fell to the floor, sobbing. My littlest brother, the most gentle and happy soul, dead. Suicide. I could not fathom it, I still cannot fathom it. How did I not realise? Why did you not reach out to me? What was so awful that you felt you could no longer be part of this world? So many questions that I will never have the answer to.

Yours was the first dead body I ever saw. And I will never forget that surreal feeling. Like your eyes would just fly open and you’d sit bolt upright and shriek SURPRISE! at me. It would all just be a big mistake. Only it wasn’t. And your skin was so cold, and you were so unmoving. This was real.

I still call your family my family. Your brothers are still my little brothers. I often stop and wonder what you would be like, how your life may have turned out.

I have 17 years of beautiful Joel memories. Tomorrow (Thursday) you would have been 31 years old.  In an alternate world somewhere you’re still alive, hanging out with my Mum, content with your place in the world.

I miss you, my littlest brother from another mother (& father).

Caution: rant ahead

•October 29, 2015 • 4 Comments

So if you know me or if you read some of what I write here, you’d know my life hasn’t been awesome lately. Let’s face it, it’s been downright shitty and tough. I’m doing okay most days, but tonight I’m feeling gutted.

Let me explain.

With everything that’s happened, I’ve been feeling unsettled. I’ve been feeling more and more like I needed security in my life. I pay a big chunk of my pay into my rent each fortnight and I figured maybe if I purchased something, just something little, then I would feel more grounded.  I worked out that what I pay in things now I could afford to borrow something reasonable. The deposit would be the catch.

So tonight I met with the bank and yes, they basically told me that I’d need a ridiculous deposit, an amount I have no chance of saving myself due to what I pay out in rent. This they acknowledged. So really, I’m fucked. I am stuck paying stupid amounts of money on rent and feeling insecure. I just want to cry. I am crying.

I’m over everything right now. I lost my baby, I lost my lover and good friend, and now I feel like I am stuck with this shitty renting situation, unless I can “win tattslotto or something”. The bank guy actually said that.

I work in a job where I give my heart and soul every single day. It’s not a highly paid job, I will never have a high paying job, but I do my best for people who need it most.

Days like today I don’t know why I bother. Days like today everything just feels like it’s too hard.


•October 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment

“What is it about society that disappoints you so much?”

Oh, I don’t know. Is it that we collectively thought that Steve Jobs was a great man, even when we knew he made billions of the backs of children? Or maybe it’s that it feels that all our heroes are counterfeit.The world itself is just one big hoax. Spamming each other with our burning commentary bullshit, masquerading as insight. Our social media faking as intimacy.

Or is it that we voted for this? Not with our rigged elections, but with our things. Our property. Our money. I’m not saying anything new, we all know why we do this. Not because Hunger Games books makes us happy, but because we want to be sedated. Because it’s painful not to pretend. Because we’re cowards.

Fuck society.

Springing into Spring!

•October 2, 2015 • 7 Comments

Well, almost.

I have been sick for almost 2 weeks now. It started with a sore throat and developed into me losing my voice completely for 3 days, getting a chest infection and sinusitis. I am still battling with this thing, whatever it is, it’s determined to make my life a misery.

The weather however, has made up for my horrible sickness. It’s been fairly divine. We have a long weekend this weekend, in celebration of our AFL Grand Final. I love that Melbourne now has two public holidays for sports things.  My team’s not in the final so I don’t really care, I think I’ll go shopping or something.

Today I spent having brunch with a couple of my close girl friends. Then one of them and I went wandering with our cameras. Her partner purchased her a DSLR and she wanted to learn how to use it. I just had my phone, but it takes pretty decent pics. She lives in South Yarra, which is always great for a wander and a shoot.

I found where I want to live, which is just up the road from her place. I just need to win a rather big sum of money and I’ll be set!

My lover and close friend left today to go to Scotland. I’m gutted that he’s gone, but also really proud of the fact that he’s taking such a huge leap and chasing the things that he loves. We have both been through a fairly torrid time in the last few months, I hope that things are amazing for him over there. My heart aches that I won’t get to see him for a long, long time, but I know sometimes you just have to let people go and hope for the best.

It’s time for me to rebuild, to focus on myself, on healing and growing.

Fleeting Friday Reflections

•September 11, 2015 • 1 Comment

Heck! It’s been almost a month. Apologies.

To be honest, I’ve just been dealing with life and its curveballs. For a month I’ve been unable to see my clients at work due to new legislation that was introduced in February. We were audited a month ago and it was discovered that I needed an International Police Check to prove I wasn’t some mad criminal. Great! So I got stuck archiving old client files. All 1500 of them. For weeks and weeks. Finally, today, my police check arrived. Thankfully my international life of crime still lies undiscovered!

Screen Shot 2015-09-11 at 12.26.01 pm

I also got the news that one of my closest friends is moving to Scotland. I don’t deal well with people leaving, so this news really floored me. I’ve been swinging wildly from coping like a champ, to being totally unreasonable and ridiculous.

“Death of a loved one can change you in all sorts of ways, both good and bad. I have become strong and self sufficient. I followed my heart and went to uni to study as a counsellor based on my own experiences with my grief counsellor after Mum died. I sold my house and lived overseas for 2 years, because I felt life was too short to be tied down with a mortgage and a job I wasn’t overly fond of.

But I am unable to maintain relationships now, and this is due to my fear of loss. I can’t do goodbyes, I can’t cope with the thought of people leaving. I get panicky, I feel like things are out of control and I project this onto people and eventually I scare them away. I sabotage things. I know I’m doing it. I can’t expect others to understand why am I like this. It makes me really emotional to think that I have ruined relationships with people I loved because of this.”

I know ultimately I will be okay, I can lean on my amazing friends and use their love and warmth to get me through this. But the thought of not being able to see this person, someone whom I trust more than anyone in the world hurts me to the core. This person allows me to express a side of me that makes me feel alive and whole. With their leaving, the lid will go back on and my life will become less fun. I dread that.

I feel like I am at a cross roads right now. Unsure which direction to take. And I’m not going to make any decisions in a hurry. I have been through a hell of a lot in the last month and it’s any wonder I feel unsettled. It’s time to reach out to those who I love and use their world views to guide me.

This weekend is forecast to be wonderful warm Spring weather and I am catching up with fabulous friends and celebrating my nephews first birthday. Should be lovely.


•August 13, 2015 • 3 Comments

It’s been a really tough few days both physically and emotionally. After miscarrying on Sunday I’ve been at work on and off, but it’s been a real struggle. The bleeding has eased but the pain has continued unabated. It can be only described as someone digging away at my insides, with a rusty spoon.

So much so that I took myself back to hospital on Tuesday. Once again they were great, but they couldn’t do much as I can’t take much more than panadol/ibuprofen. They ran tests to ensure I wasn’t brewing an infection, which I wasn’t.


I got sick of being there pretty quickly and was glad to come home to my own bed.

Today I lost the plot completely. Days worth of physical pain had worn me down and I felt like the world was an horrendous place.  The support I received was nothing short of marvellous, but nothing much could brighten my clouded mood. In the afternoon I had a follow up ultrasound. The radiologist confirmed there was still a lot of “material” being retained and this was what was causing my pain. Tomorrow I will see my GP to discuss options. I just want this over with, I want to move on. I feel like I am stuck in this world of pain and misery and I can’t find my way free. I’m just shattered.

She also gave me a scan from last week, when I got to see the baby’s heart beat. It took me a good couple of hours to be able to look at them. I now have something tangible, proof that there indeed once was a tiny little blobby being growing inside of me.

baby & heartbeat

The little dots on the left are the heart beat.

the baby

Hello little being

I will be okay, I just need time and closure.

Thank you to everyone who has sent me lovely messages over the last few days. It has been muchly appreciated.

I just found this article on pregnancy loss and it struck a chord with me. It’s very well written <3

Everything in its right place

•August 9, 2015 • 8 Comments

This weekend I have endured both pain and heart ache, yet I have also felt amazing compassion.

At 7.5 weeks pregnant, I knew what the odds were, of someone my age and with my history, actually having a viable pregnancy. But since finding out and subsequently seeing the flickering of this tiny beings heart, I felt attached and maternal. An almost foreign concept. Sure, I adore my niece and nephew and have no issues relating to and getting along with most kids. In fact I attract them, maybe they see the ridiculous big kid in me that I try so hard to hide from the sensible adult world.

When I discovered I was pregnant, I dared not breathe. I endured the waves of nausea, the hilarious bacon cravings, the going to bed before Nanna o’clock most nights.  I analysed my body. Being so very body aware, every little change I studied, wondering what lay ahead. I was fascinated and so very scared.

When the bleeding started it was light. I scoured the internet, early pregnancy bleeding was common. I didn’t feel any better. By the second day, it intensified a little more and I felt my anxiety rising. I wanted to bury my head under the doona, to block out my reality. I knew deep down that things were changing.

On day three (Saturday), with the bleeding I now had small period like cramps. Everything felt wrong. I debated with myself for a good hour, then drove alone to the hospital emergency department.  Sandringham Hospital staff were amazing. I felt cocooned in an amazing environment, being looked out for by people who genuinely cared. Who wanted to do what was right for me, a now fairly stressed out pregnant woman.

When the radiologist could find no heart beat, I knew I’d been right to trust my body.

It was all I could do to get back in my car and make it home. I felt like I could tear apart at the seams at any moment, and it would unleash the torrent of emotion within.

It wasn’t until that first embrace that I allowed myself to crack.

Then it was a waiting game.

On Sunday, after a lovely breakfast at a local cafe, we walked along the beach, talking, joking, existing. The pain was slowly ramping up and eventually I knew I needed to be back home. We debated going back to the hospital, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for what lay ahead.

With hindsight, the only pain worse than what I was experiencing was when I had my liver surgery and subsequently got pancreatitis. I wanted to die on that occasion.

I felt like I was having contractions, 5 minutes apart. For a good two hours. Agonising. Excruciating.

What happened next I will never forget. But I will not describe it. I knew things were over.

I sobbed, feeling both utter sadness and relief.

Everything in its right place.

Almost immediately things eased and just felt like normal period cramps again.

My little tenant, even though I never got to hold you in my arms, it was my pleasure to have held you within my body. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out, I have no regrets.



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