Graham Moore, thankyou!

February 24, 2015 raphaela992 Comments

This picture of an extremely talented man, and the condensed version of his inspired acceptance speech have gone viral. Thankyou, The Bully Project, for framing this heartrending speech. Thankyou for the work that you are doing.

I was thirteen years of age, when I tried to die. I felt different, and had the sinking feeling that I might never find my home in this world, nor a place to belong. I almost succeeded. I look at my life now, and you know what? Every day I feel like kissing the earth over the fact that I am still anchored here. To every kid that doesn’t fit in, and worries that they never will, the good news is that you don’t have to! There is a world out there wanting to embrace you. People needing your gifts and anxious to hear what you have to say. There are ideas waiting to be born, and places to visit. Adventures to be had. To concur with Graham, “I would like this moment to be for that kid out there who feels like she’s weird or she’s different and doesn’t fit in anywhere. Yes, you do. I promise you: You do. Stay weird and stay different.” It has worked for me! Those dark years gave way to a future I could only dream of. People that love and “get” me; a job I love. I am now home schooling my daughter, and seeing her flourish is one of my greatest joys. Thank God I am here. If all you have to hang onto at the moment is an audacious belief in yourself, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. I don’t know where my fellow classmates are now. My path dramatically diverged from theirs. I have found my tribe, and a place to belong. Hold on…You shall too. They are out there waiting for you.

It’s a Wonderful Life (with a touch of melancholy thrown in).

October 17, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela996 Comments

I have been hit by melancholy, a low-grade depression. It has been skulking up on me, playing the old and tired game of shadowing. I feel a tap on my shoulder, turn around, and find nothing. It walks so closely that it mimics my moves. It starts with feeling overwhelmed. Seeing what needs to be done, but with no idea where to start or how to fit it all into a day. More caffeine is drank, and less sleep is had. My hands shake. I worry if I am loved, if I do enough, if I am enough. I look for assurance and guarantees. The fragility builds upon itself, like particles of sand atop each other. Seemingly compact, though at risk of caving in at any moment. So many changes shall be taking place next year, and my child will need me to strong. She will also need to see tears and vulnerability. She needs me to show her how to do feelings. Perhaps that is one of the issues. We almost become disassociated shells as we go about our day. Never checking in with our minds and hearts, perusing our to-do lists. It’s funny what you let slide when melancholy hits. You cease to exercise, eat regularly, drink water, take your tonics, meditate, stop. You cease to contact friends and plan adventures. All the stuff you actually require. I know what my triggers are, and I know what to do to feel better.

A very brave friend has shown me you are allowed to say when you need to retreat, and bow out on a particular day. After all, you have some inner filing to sort. She also showed me how to reach out in a meaningful way, to suggest a dinner or movie. She showed me how to make overtures of friendship without fear of rejection. She is doing some major work, eating well and taking time for herself. She is glowing. I want to glow too. I first heard the song, It’s a Wonderful Life by Black a week before I was abducted. I loved the melancholic overtone running through the hope in the undertone. They created the perfect song with the perfect video clip. It is a wonderful life… I really am of an age where experience has shown me that melancholy doesn’t jump me in a dark alley. Events and comments and the world and the news shadow us all, and we need to consistently dive into our tool kit. I just enquired of myself what might be needed this afternoon. I am going to make a pot of green tea, a salad wrap, sit outside for five minutes, and eat freshly baked lavender scones this afternoon. That is what I shall do.

Revising Life.

August 12, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela993 Comments

Robin Williams has left us. My friends and I are all in tears. Those that bring laughter and joy are usually the ones who battle in private. Acutely aware of not wanting to burden the people around them, they say little of their struggles. They keep busy, running several projects at the one time, spinning the plates with only two hands. Their social life looks full and one witnesses the happy snaps, reassured that your friend or family member has had a week of contentment. Busy, busy, busy. Loathe to stop and sit quietly with their thoughts. Running harder and faster, with a full calendar and mind. A fleeting sinking feeling might appear, and they acknowledge the hidden anger, grief, pain and sadness within their psyche. Who to tell? Everyone is so busy. Everyone has their own stuff. I have to keep it together. I don’t want to have my depression dismissed by platitudes. It wont help. When I was in the midst of grave depression, what did help was acknowledgement. A hug, and sharing a pot of tea. Going for a walk in the sunshine and talking to a friend. It is a tremendously brave thing to do, to share that you are in hell. So very brave.

One cannot keep depression at bay by running harder. You stumble, and the black dog awaits the fall. Maybe we need to have a revision of life, and how we do it. Simplify, go back to basics. Keep Sundays as a day of rest and of connecting. Give more hugs, be attuned to the subtle nuances of our other humans. Pare down the commitments and be with those who fill your heart. You can’t afford to be punctured, to leak as though you were a sieve. This is your life that is at stake. Anything and anyone that compounds the darkness, must go, at least for now. I regret that life is so difficult, and for some, too difficult. I have lost many loved ones to suicide. My heart still aches. If I could have breathed hope into them I would have. If you are suffering depression, and are dismissed by the first person you confide in, keep going. Go gently in this world, beautiful people. Too much activity is just as troubling as none. Balance. These are things I am learning. Robin, we love you. We cherish the legacy you left us. As I sit with my daughter in the years to come to watch your movies, I will tell her about you. Bless you always and ever, and our love to those whom you left on earth.

I Am Thankful.

May 19, 2014June 26, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

I am thankful on this gorgeous autumn day.

Firstly, for this little fellow. His name is Bristem and I found him at a fete for $3.00 on Saturday! Handmade in Nundle, he is the inventor of new games for the elderly to play in ‘Elador.’ He waits patiently for a friend to come by and see if he enjoyed his new card game. Wouldn’t it be lovely if folks that invented games for our lives had Bristem’s good intent and his friendly features? A girl can dream!

I am also thankful for tie-dyed doilies. Where have you been all my life?!

Also, tiny fairy doors, leading to magical portals of splendour. We all need to escape now and then! The news is filled with stories of truth being released from hidden corners; people finally granted the peace which being heard conspires. The survivors of Robert Hughes, and now Parramatta Girls Home… I hope they find a friend like Bristem, devising fun games to take them away from the memories. To have the colour come back to their lives, as bright as my new doily. To have a means of escape as handy as my little fairy door. Most of all, I hope they have a new beginning. I am thankful that they held on. I am thankful for their bravery and stoicism. I adore living in a world with these souls.

Hold On.

March 26, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

I am going to republish this post, after hearing of the passing of Robin Williams.There are many amongst us who are battling depression. Brilliant people, who seemingly have the world at their feet. I can tell you from firsthand experience,that when you are feeling low, you have fallen into an abyss where the stars aren’t seen. They are smothered by an unforgiving cluster of coal, smeared across the light. I almost succeeded at ending my life at fifteen. In fact, I had a few serious attempts. Serious enough to have claimed my life each time. I didn’t want to die, I just wanted the pain to stop. I had to be brought back after my heart stopped. I awoke several days later in ICU,after dancing between life and death. I wasn’t pleased to still be here. I felt like a stranger in this world, without a home nor tribe. It seemed that circumstances including severe abuse- had conspired to push me out, and so I spun around in orbit. I tried to cling to a glimmer of hope, but in that dark moment,I couldn’t imagine anything changing. This was before being thrown off a building. This was before more pain, and a lengthy recovery.

I am a grown woman now. I would say to that teen, “little girl, don’t give up. Don’t react in an act of violence against yourself. There will be growth after this anguish is done. You will get away.” Have you ever seen a forest after a bushfire? Black, the trees devoid of life. Then, regrowth. New shoots, tremulously and shyly start to peek out of the hollows. When I see this spectacle, I get emotional. That is what a person battling depression must cling to. New shoots will grow. It wont always feel like this. Today I talked to a friend, was helped by a friend, my daughter told me about her day, and we played. I had a few of her friends rush up and give me a hug. I have been loved. I have eaten good food and smelt citrus fruit. I have heard my little canaries melodic song and patted my guinea pig’s soft fur.

Those with sensitive spirits, the wounded and vulnerable. We need more of you. You are the healers. Defy the pain that wants to take you out of this world. Just keep breathing. The answers will come to you in time. If you speak and aren’t heard, put it down to a dodgy connection, and try again with someone else. I love the saying, ‘If you are brave all the time, people will come to expect it of you’-Mignon McLaughlin. Nobody sees your suffering if they don’t know it exists. It is true, that some won’t understand when you speak your truth. Keep talking. I know Lifeline is stretched, and sometimes they can’t pick up every call. Try again. The stakes are too high. You are fighting for your life. You are precious. We need you. Lifeline, 13 11 14 in Australia. xxx

What would you say to a bloke you suspect of having bipolar?

June 21, 2013December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

My husband wanted me to write about our experience with bipolar, as we know several couples at the start of their journey. He wants what we have been through to help others. I commend him on this, and also on the huge changes I have seen in him. He said he didn’t understand that he had textbook symptoms. There needs to be a checklist. He says to other men, if these things are happening in your life, get help! What sort of things need to be on your checklist? Feeling different from everyone. Not being able to communicate with people, especially in long-term relationships. Feeling unbeatable and unstoppable, then feeling worthless and useless. Drinking heavily and/or experimenting with drugs. Seeing loved ones pull away from you. Going around in circles. Going really well for a while, then plummeting back to earth. The main thing for my hubby is relationships. He went from a naturally gregarious character to a fellow who couldn’t talk with people. He wouldn’t know what to say, and would get extremely restless at social events, and wander off by himself. Talk to your doctor, and loved ones. You can receive help and it is more than possible to not just survive, but flourish. The Black Dog Institute

Hope on a Sunday.

May 7, 2013June 26, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

My husband had been unreachable since his disappearance. His movements and speech were slow, and painfully hopeless. He was inside his hell, and I couldn’t get in to retrieve him. I told him about a lovely doctor I had confided in, and he agreed to come with me on Sunday to the practice. This gentle man with a timbered voice listened after asking about my partner’s experiences in childhood and as an adult. He described his restlessness, his recklessness, his over-the-top behaviour and the savage, meteorite crashes onto earth. “I believe you have bi-polar, and have been trying to regulate your moods with alcohol,” the doctor finally spoke. He prescribed two different drug classes, one an anti-depressant and the other Lithium. When he indicated that it would be a hard, slow road, whilst the dosages were tweaked, but that the result would be that my husband would feel better than he had his whole adult life, my man broke down. I cried too. He may start to experience what it means to feel alive as opposed to feeling hyper or under-stimulated. The past five years have been hell. I look at the dishevelled, unhappy man seated next to me, and I know we are on a new journey, one I hadn’t anticipated nor prepared for. I buckle my seatbelt and prepare for blast-off.

The Answer…

May 6, 2013December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

I saw the new doctor at the practice, an older fellow with an assuring timbre in his voice. The sort of man one feels immediately at ease with. It was one of the hardest conversations I have ever had. My words tumbled out of my mouth, as I explained that my husband isn’t well. “He went missing. He drinks, a lot.” He listens, leans forward. I cry as I try to explain how down he has been, then accelerating to grand plans and spending sprees often in the same day. “I believe he might be suffering with bipolar,” the doctor asserts. “Bring him in to see me this Sunday.” The first smattering of hope I have felt in a long time. Hubby has been going to AA meetings. It has been a week without alcohol. The sky seems brighter, but he is still absent.