It's well past 8pm and I am looking for a bottle shop. Dressed in floral Peter Alexander Pyjmaa bottoms, a blue jumper which still has the tag attached to it, I cannot be bothered tearing it off right now, and yesterday's make up. I am tired. I am sure I haven't eaten in a few days. Well, that's a blatant lie. I have eaten. I have had mouthfulls of food from the fridge throughout the last few days, that's been whenever I've stopped crying long enough and my mouth has been free enough to chew something down.
Where am i? How did i get here? I had plans this year. Plans of going to New York. Plans of working for a production house in the united states.....and alternative plans to go to university part time in Sydney where i had an apartment overlooking the city skyline in leafy Woollahra. I have a good job, well somedays i love it and am so grateful for it, other days I want to run away and work in a library where I don't get to hear or speak to anyone, because I am an introvert. Well...again, some days i am, some days I am not. I also had a very full on social life and spent most nights in bars, at lavish parties and never was there a night that I wasn't doing something. And, now here I am .... at 8pm....looking for a bottleshop in the deserted empty streets of a small little country town.
again, how did i end up here?
Never in a million years did I ever think I would myself back in this town. Here. The place I once called home. I am twenty something....ok, maybe I just left my twenties a year ago, but still....thirty is just a scary number. And, I prefer to say twenty.and maybe even stay in my twenties. And, I am single. And, living back at home. With my dad. Who has cancer.
There. I said. It. that horrible six letter word that i wish didnt exit. Maybe if i don't say it, it will mean it's not true and he doesn't have it and it's all just a made up world and this all just a nightmare. And, I can leave and go back to my lavish life, knowing when I come back here on the weekends, he will still be here, happy and healthy.
Why am I writing about all of this? I like to write. I also like to process things through the written word, and because this is going to be quite a journey and maybe reality is sometimes stranger and more interesting than fiction. I am writing to keep track of my life as it unfolds over the next few months, years.....hopefully years, i would like a few more years with my father. Considering i have only had a good relationship with him for the last five years. (another post, another time)
Follow me on this journey. As I delve into the past. Press towards the future, be pushed, pulled and confronted with things i never even knew existed. Welcome to my life.
I may even find things about myself I never knew existed. I may even grow to like this little town - although I doubt that very much. Maybe I will learn things about myself on this journey and maybe i can help someone else along the way, because what is life is we don't serve a purpose of helping others.
I was walking along the streets the other day, after rmy manager pulled me into a meeting to ask 'why I have had so many absences of late?" I am not sure what part of the only man in my world is ill and i am trying to adjust to living with other people as well as commenting two hours to work everyday along side dealing with this sickness...and yet, you ask why I have been late? I can't deal with this. I stormed out. What was going on? My head was spinning and I couldn't speak. All I could do was sob uncontrollably. I suddenly felt like the entire office had turned against me. The one friend i had there, suddenly wanted nothing to do with me, my boss who had three months ago sung praises about how good i was at my job was now questioning why I had so many 'explained' absences all whilst the rest of my team conspired behind my back and towards my downfall.
tears streaming down my face, i walked and walked and walked. I couldn't go back in there, not just yet. I need to gain some clarity. I just wanted to board a plane and runaway from this. All of this. Everything. I wanted to not be adjusting to a new life in the countryside, I wanted my old life back. I wanted my dad to no longer be sick. Just last week I had been flying through life, enjoying lattes, books and nights out but yet I wasn't content and needed something to change. I guess I got my change alright.
I noticed ahomeless person talking to nonone in particular and it was then that it hit me. I needed to get my head right. My shit together. I risked losing the little that i had left of my life if I didn't sort myself out asap. As I walked along the path, I imagined that these people who are strung out on drugs and homeless, some were born into this world homeless, others ...they weren't. At one time or another perhaps they too had plans and hopes of a future. Perhaps they too wanted to make something of their lives. But then life got a hold of them, as they stood there trying to walk towards their goals, the enemy came in and targeted them with arrow after arrow after arrow until they knocked them flat on their skull and they cracked something, they cracked it so hard, they never got back up again. That is what i risked happening to me if i didn't desensitise myself and just get on with this season. I needed to become numb to get through these next few months of uncertainty and try and make the very best of this situation I was now being faced with. In whichever which way i knew how.
Where am i? How did i get here? I had plans this year. Plans of going to New York. Plans of working for a production house in the united states.....and alternative plans to go to university part time in Sydney where i had an apartment overlooking the city skyline in leafy Woollahra. I have a good job, well somedays i love it and am so grateful for it, other days I want to run away and work in a library where I don't get to hear or speak to anyone, because I am an introvert. Well...again, some days i am, some days I am not. I also had a very full on social life and spent most nights in bars, at lavish parties and never was there a night that I wasn't doing something. And, now here I am .... at 8pm....looking for a bottleshop in the deserted empty streets of a small little country town.
again, how did i end up here?
Never in a million years did I ever think I would myself back in this town. Here. The place I once called home. I am twenty something....ok, maybe I just left my twenties a year ago, but still....thirty is just a scary number. And, I prefer to say twenty.and maybe even stay in my twenties. And, I am single. And, living back at home. With my dad. Who has cancer.
There. I said. It. that horrible six letter word that i wish didnt exit. Maybe if i don't say it, it will mean it's not true and he doesn't have it and it's all just a made up world and this all just a nightmare. And, I can leave and go back to my lavish life, knowing when I come back here on the weekends, he will still be here, happy and healthy.
Why am I writing about all of this? I like to write. I also like to process things through the written word, and because this is going to be quite a journey and maybe reality is sometimes stranger and more interesting than fiction. I am writing to keep track of my life as it unfolds over the next few months, years.....hopefully years, i would like a few more years with my father. Considering i have only had a good relationship with him for the last five years. (another post, another time)
Follow me on this journey. As I delve into the past. Press towards the future, be pushed, pulled and confronted with things i never even knew existed. Welcome to my life.
I may even find things about myself I never knew existed. I may even grow to like this little town - although I doubt that very much. Maybe I will learn things about myself on this journey and maybe i can help someone else along the way, because what is life is we don't serve a purpose of helping others.
I was walking along the streets the other day, after rmy manager pulled me into a meeting to ask 'why I have had so many absences of late?" I am not sure what part of the only man in my world is ill and i am trying to adjust to living with other people as well as commenting two hours to work everyday along side dealing with this sickness...and yet, you ask why I have been late? I can't deal with this. I stormed out. What was going on? My head was spinning and I couldn't speak. All I could do was sob uncontrollably. I suddenly felt like the entire office had turned against me. The one friend i had there, suddenly wanted nothing to do with me, my boss who had three months ago sung praises about how good i was at my job was now questioning why I had so many 'explained' absences all whilst the rest of my team conspired behind my back and towards my downfall.
tears streaming down my face, i walked and walked and walked. I couldn't go back in there, not just yet. I need to gain some clarity. I just wanted to board a plane and runaway from this. All of this. Everything. I wanted to not be adjusting to a new life in the countryside, I wanted my old life back. I wanted my dad to no longer be sick. Just last week I had been flying through life, enjoying lattes, books and nights out but yet I wasn't content and needed something to change. I guess I got my change alright.
I noticed ahomeless person talking to nonone in particular and it was then that it hit me. I needed to get my head right. My shit together. I risked losing the little that i had left of my life if I didn't sort myself out asap. As I walked along the path, I imagined that these people who are strung out on drugs and homeless, some were born into this world homeless, others ...they weren't. At one time or another perhaps they too had plans and hopes of a future. Perhaps they too wanted to make something of their lives. But then life got a hold of them, as they stood there trying to walk towards their goals, the enemy came in and targeted them with arrow after arrow after arrow until they knocked them flat on their skull and they cracked something, they cracked it so hard, they never got back up again. That is what i risked happening to me if i didn't desensitise myself and just get on with this season. I needed to become numb to get through these next few months of uncertainty and try and make the very best of this situation I was now being faced with. In whichever which way i knew how.
