turn and face the change

This is a partial reprint of the online ad for my potential new home. We still haven't heard from the agent, but it can take up to two weeks for them to decide on the successful tenant. Meanwhile, the agent gets to keep my $260 "option fee" until the decision is made.

Speaking of decisions, three days ago my mum and I took my nanna to the Emergency Department as her pulmonary infection was not improving, even with antibiotics and (even more alarmingly) she was showing signs of delirium. She is usually quite lucid and aware, even though she is almost 91, but Thursday she began to act strangely (like sitting in bed in the dark trying to read and telling us about apparations she had seen, flowers on the ceiling etc). Her GP Doc thought it might be delirium caused by the chest infection so we took her straight to the ER on Friday when she was no better. Six hours later she was admitted to a ward and it seems now that she has sudden onset dementia which may or may not improve once the infection is cleared up. My brother works in aged care and he seems to think that sometimes, often, that kind of mental deterioration is permanent. In a way, it's okay because she actually seems very happy and relaxed in her "new world" whereas usually she would be angry and stressed about being sick. She recognises us but doesn't really have any "context" for things, and is content to sit beside her hospital bed gazing out the window. We were really concerned that she would be frustrated at having to stay in hospital, but that hasn't happened at all.

It's disturbing, having had a mostly coherent grandmother for almost 40 years and now, practically overnight, seeing her change into a muddled childlike person. I'm surprised by how upsetting it is. I can't stop thinking about all the things I shared with nanna that she will (probably) now forget, leaving me as the only "keeper of the memory". We were very close when I was growing up, she was a substitute for my own mother whom I was not close to, we would cook and play cards and watch TV. I especially loved the TV as my own house didn't have one until I was 14 (stupid intellectual parents LOL).

Mr Ex usually comes over to see the dog and cats on Sundays and this morning he texted me to say he couldn't make it. I called him back to tell him about nanna, as he was close to her when we were together (having never had his own grandparents around). I was irritated with myself as I teared up and then cried while telling him, and allowed myself to be comforted by him, and then I was angry because I let myself be vulnerable. He was understanding and kind, basically he is a decent person, and I suppose it's hard to break the habit after ten years of being supported by him. Such a lot of mixed emotions today and it's not even 10am haha!

six months on, the winter's gone*

My friend Michelle and I submitted an application for a rental house this morning. Very VERY exciting, and also completely terrifying (in the way of all great things lol). Am I sane enough to leave the comfort and safety of sharing a house with my parents? Can I keep working and therefore support myself financially? How will it feel to have to leave my dog and one cat behind, as logistically there is no way my new arrangement can include them? These are all things I believe I can overcome, mostly because there is NO OTHER CHOICE. I simply cannot remain in this state of flux that I've inhabited since I split up with Mr Ex and began the long process of becoming mental. I refuse to get left behind as the rest of the world, and the potential of my life, moves on without me. I feel compelled to get out there kicking and screaming, which may just be a side effect of the atypical anti-psychotic but what the hey...

It's a small-ish, grotty-ish duplex, with two bedrooms, fairly big living area and a small study nook type thing. Crapola backyard. Has my main requirement - a bath tub. One addiction I don't need to get rid of - phew. It's a mauve-lilac purple bath, actually, tres posh. The place also has ceiling fans (bonus, as jeez it's getting hot in here), a new stove, built-in robes and is 30 mins from my workplace. Currently I spent 1.5 - 2 hrs travelling each way, and oh man am I OVER that. There's a lot to be positive about, even though Michelle and I jokingly call it the "Juliette Lewis skanky duplex". It's also extremely cheap - $260 a week (for my O/S friends that's approx 138 GBP, $230USD) which is $40 a week less than most of the places we've looked at. 80% of places in Perth are over $400 a week these days, which still freaks me out. Rents have doubled in the last ten years, and I can guarantee that my wages certainly haven't increased by that much.

Anyway, apart from that there's not much news. My nanna is fairly ill with a pulmonary condition and has pretty much been bedridden all week. Am fighting the guilt about the chance of me moving out and leaving her... I have a bastard head cold, which is annoying me, and it's hot again - yuck. I've been doing well on my current medication (40mg fluoxetine a day, 10mg amisulpride, plus supplements) and Dr A told me last week he was proud of the way I had managed my work issues and was moving ahead. I know he gets paid to "validate the Borderline" but it was still nice to hear. My family are also being extremely supportive, even though me moving out will leave them financially and logistically in a hard place. My mom especially will miss me, as I share cooking, shopping, supporting roles with her. But we are looking to the future, and I need to step out from under this codependency umbrella, ella, ella....


* Belle & Sebastian - 'My Wandering Days Are Over'

they call me mellow yellow, quite rightly

Greetings friends, my apologies for not updating sooner. Yes, the new medication (Solian) is working well - reducing the hair pulling and binge impulses, definitely reduced anger, and I am sleeping a lot better. It's a low dose but a good 'un! I see Dr A on Wednesday, after his month in Europe, and will be happy to report that things are fairly good. Certainly better than a couple of weeks ago.

My friend Michelle and I have our plans to move out together well underway. Sometime between now and February we'll be sharing a small house or a duplex/unit (I think y'all in the US call it a condo, like an apartment but bigger and usually with ground floor access?). We've seen a couple of places, and have narrowed down our search to a few key suburbs - all of which are closer to work than here. I am completely OVER the 1.5 - 2 hr bus trip each way. We looked at a place on Friday that was 10 mins walk away from work but sadly it had no bathtub and was suffering from a semi-permanent mould invasion. Ugh. I am so excited about living with Michelle, who is my closest friend and someone I can be honest with. She has been staying here on and off over the last few weeks and the more time I spend with her the more I am convinced that rooming together makes great sense financially as well as emotionally. Now we just have to find somewhere!

I start a three week course tomorrow on Flower Essences and herbal remedies, which is something my mom and I are interested in. It'll be nice to do the course with her, and I am also booked into a goal setting course next month. Hopefully I will still feel well enough to do the course by then...the problem with feeling well is that sometimes I commit myself to things that I end up regretting!

So far, the only side effect I've felt from the Solian is a dry mouth, and the fact that I'm slightly drowsy - but as I take it before bed anyway, that's no biggie. I'm finding that slightly numb effect to be welcome, even though mentally I struggle with the idea of blunting and how it detaches me from my necessary emotions of anger, frustrations, etc. I think that for the next few months, to find accommodation for next year and to finish my two courses as well as complete the semester at work, I need all the help I can get. Dr A says the ultimate goal is to reduce or stop medication completely, but it may take years to get there. I am so impatient, want everything now now now now now haha!! But I am trying to look at this as an investment, and will take the anti-psychotic while it helps.

Spending time with my friends and family has kept me away from my virtual world, and I MISS YOU ALL! Hope to catch up soon.

why is the last mile the hardest mile?

Three weeks ago Dr A gave me a prescription for an atypical antipsychotic, and tonight I started taking amisulpride (aka Solian). I wasn't keen to start a new medication while Doc was lazing on a beach in Portugal, but really, the last week has been hellish and I'm hoping for some kind of miracle. It's a low dose, but it's possible that it will help to stablise my moods and help with the trichotillomania, binge eating, angry freakouts, etc. When he wrote the script Dr A said it could keep me up all night, or help me sleep, and I'm desperately hoping it'll be the latter. So damn tired, so sick of the nightmares I'm having.

I took a personal day off from work today, after waking up with that utterly helpless feeling, knowing I would not be able to summon the strength to face the world. I spent the morning writing a list of all the crap I have to worry about, which (weirdly enough) helped. I'm now attempting to prioritise these things, and will work through them one at a time. Sigh. My dog had to have $500 worth of x-rays a couple of weeks ago, after rupturing her cruciate ligament jumping down from her groomer's table for goodness sake! Whose dog DOES that? So unfortunately, my divorce is temporarily on hold. But I still plan on doing it as soon as I save up the money again. I have also contacted Mr Ex regarding a few loose ends, possessions, etc, and it felt quite decent to be assertive. I am still overwhelmed with resentment and anger about a lot of things regarding our marriage/his lies. And I suppose one day that will all have to be dealt with.

I logged on here today and found I had one less follower. Nick Drake just the last straw, huh? LOL. My friend Kate once mentioned how easy it is as a blogger to place stock on who has you on their blog lists, and who follows you, and she is (as usual) right. It sucks that someone abandoned me while I was down!! I'm kidding, but you know what I mean, right? I have another friend who warned me, and rightly so, about the indulging in melancholy music when I'm already feeling low. I'm terribly prone to that, so have avoided all tear-jerking emo type music today! Apart from the blog post title, which is courtesy of Morrissey.

One of the bright moments in the last week has been my kick arse friends, in the real world and the virtual. It helps so much to know other people know what the black dog looks like, and how persistently he hangs around hoping for some scraps of sadness. Another bright spot was seeing Whip It - a movie that may be responsible for my unattractive and clumsy entry to the sport of roller derby!! If only I could a) skate, b) think of a good derby name and c) wear fishnets without resembling an overstuffed bag of oranges. LOVED the movie and am determined to live the tagline - BE YOUR OWN HERO!

black eyed dog he knew my name

Nick Drake was born on June 19 - the same date as me and Heath Ledger was born in Perth, Western Australia - the same city as me. It's weird how things overlap, and the fact that one of the last things Heath Ledger worked on before he died was a tribute film clip to my favourite Nick Drake song definitely gives me a shiver or two.

Things are tenuous here, as my posting of this clip suggests. But I know that I can wait out the blues and things will improve again. So much to say, so little energy to describe it properly. It's mundane and parochial but hey, it's my life. Managing to eat (a little too much), sleep (somewhat less than the necessary amount), go to work (if begrudgingly) and stave off bankruptcy (for the moment). All else resides in the too hard basket, and I apologise for my lack of substance around y'all's blogs lately. I will be back. In Nick Drake's words things will be Bryter Layter.

the story is old, I know, but it goes on*

A friend of mine, John at www.myranting.co.uk, wrote a short story once that said, in part : There's just something missing right now. I'm not sure what it is. But whatever it is, it's not fuckin' there. A big void in my soul that I've tried to fill with every single kind of nonsense that I can possibly think of. This statement has always struck a chord with me, as it describes the way I've felt all my life. It explains SO MANY poor choices...the wrong men I pursued, in the wrong ways...the terrible/wonderful substances with which I've abused my body...the obsessions, hobbies, compulsions, images, personas, vendettas, friendships, all of which inevitably failed to fill that void that I call the Big BPD Empty.

It's only now, nine months after my official diagnosis with Borderline Personality Disorder, that I am starting to feel the void getting smaller. And it's amazing to me that I never realised the way to heal my heart was from the inside out. Always wanting to push/shove/stuff things IN to myself, there wasn't room for the growth of what wanted to come OUT. That sounds slightly gross, lol, I swear this isn't one of my posts about bodily functions! I guess what I am trying, poorly, to say is that all along the substance that was needed to fill my Big Empty was stuff that already existed in ME. It's not one thing, it seems to be a grunge-coloured mixture of fury, joy, terror and rapture at the moment... but it's definitely true and real and all that hippy stuff haha. It seems like the more work I do at finding out how I really feel and think about things (my self, my life), the less that void threatens to engulf me.

I had my last session with Dr A this week before his month-long vacation - now I'm flying solo for four weeks, when I usually see him once a week. I think it's a good opportunity for me to see how I travel without him to keep me on track, and maybe it will all go down the tubes by the end of October but there's a good chance it won't. Although I've never been a member of AA I know enough to be able to quote one of the sayings of the 12 Steppers - "it works if you work it". That definitely applies to my battle against the Big Empty. Even though sometimes I would rather stay in bed and/or drink gin and/or eat a truckload of junkfood and/or pull my hair out by the handful I know that the hard work is where the reward lies. Damn it.

(*The Smiths - Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me)

i turned my face away and i dreamed about you

I have this weird theory that when I dream about certain people, it means they are dreaming about me (or thinking about me, if that person resides in a different time zone lol). Clearly this doesn't relate to the strange dream I had once about being in Starbucks with George Clooney... sadly. But I had a dream recently about a bloke I call The One That Got Away. We've all got one, well most of us, someone who was always at the back of our minds, and in our lives, as a potential mate but the timing was wrong, the the situation was impossible, and thus the person remains just a friend. In my case, even the friendship was lost due to Steve (TOTGA) moving across the country and us losing touch. But I think about him often, and he is one of the few people that I can imagine being in a relationship with without wanting to run away screaming, or start gagging. I think it's partly because the trust is there, you know, it's not like starting fresh with some guy who may or may not turn out to be an axe murderer or a mouth breather.

I met Steve through a cult I used to hang with. It was one of those quasi-interpersonal cults, focused on self-reflection rather than a residential David Koresh/Jim Jones deal with a fatal end result. Both of us moved away from the cult, actually I think the Puerto Rican leader went to jail for embezzlement or something, but our friendship was solid. One of the things the cult believed in was the soul astral travelling to another plane while we slept, so maybe that's one of the reasons I imagine Steve is dreaming about me when I dream of him. It was one of those realistic dreams when I asked a number of times in the dream "I'm not dreaming, am I?" but of course, the fantasy ends and I wake up still having not seen or spoken to TOTGA since 1994. Steve is the main reason I am on the Evil Empire of Facebook, just in case he ever wants to find me...

Things in therapy have been getting to a flashpoint, if that's the right word. It's hard work sometimes, a lot of the time really, but recently I feel like it's starting to pay off. I'm achieving clarity in the way I view my relationships, esp with my family and their patterns of behaviour. I need to get a one-way ticket out of Martyrville. Dr A talked to me about how the "nice girl" persona I have, where I seem accommodating and easy-going, mimics my mother's passive-aggressive relationship with my nanna. She resents the hell out of nanna, bitches and moans about her and her lack of parenting and yet runs around after her and constantly puts her own needs second to my nanna's. I think I grew up thinking that was the way to win friends and influence people, but now I see that it's a massive cop out and it's SO dishonest. She (I) just doesn't want to address her (my) own desires and requirements, and then make the changes to get them. I REFUSE to be like this anymore! I'm becoming "selfish" in that I put myself and my journey first - as long as it doesn't hurt or harm others I think that's how it should be. I can love and support other people without being their "bitch" haha!!

Regardless of how difficult it is, I am aiming to live an authentic, real life someday. I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it. I decided today that regardless of the financial cost, I'm filing for divorce this week. Screw the money, I need the closure. If Mr Ex will pay for half, that's fine, but if need be I will cancel my summer vacation and spend the money getting my name back. I keep saying to myself "You go girl", and I know I can hear all your wonderful supportive voices saying the same thing. I don't say it enough, readers/friends, but thank you.

(title from the pogues/kirsty macoll (RIP) fairytale of new york)