Bitching

Two smokes and half a packet of Pods

A broken full-length mirror

Capped off a seven-year-old's two hour tantrum

A pointless angry phone conversation with the ex

Another fucked up day is coming to an end

Which followed a fucked up night of little sleep

This week has past the halfway mark

It can only get better, can't it?

Snap Shot of My Life: Turning Point - Part 1

Note- This is a long piece so I'm splitting it in half. As always your comments are welcomed but in this case I may not respond to them. I felt compelled to write this now, I'm not sure why. It wasn't an easy write and may not be an easy read for some.

*** *** ***

I was your average eighteen-year-old. I was happy and out going, working hard and playing hard. I had a great circle of friends and enjoyed being young and very social. I ended up meeting *Mark through this group of friends and knew when I met him that I was going to be with him. I don’t know how or why but I just knew that at least for now we were going to be together. I was right, we got together the very night we met, my best friend, *Jen, telling me to stay away from him only made me more curious, she’d said that before. Over the next couple of weeks Mark and I were obviously getting closer. We were the third couple to be formed within the group.

One particular weekend, when Mark and I had only just started dating, we all decided to go out of our comfort zone and go “clubbing” elsewhere. Jen and I suggested an area and everyone agreed. Jen wanted to go to one wine bar in particular; we had been there on my eighteenth and she’d loved it. We started out at the leagues club and moved to a few different clubs as the night went along. The last place for the night was to be the wine bar. By this stage there was only four of us still going, everyone else had called it a night, including Mark.

The wine bar was in an old sandstone cottage. Inside there were three rooms at the front of the cottage, a smaller room behind these housed the bar and led further back to the bathrooms. There were wide, open archways between the three front rooms. The two rooms on the sides were filled with overcrowded tables and chairs, sat too close together. The middle room had a small stage set up, where a band was playing eighties rock, the dance-floor in front of the stage was half full. The lighting was dim and the music filled the little cottage completely without being too loud. It all had a certain kind of charm to it, a pleasant and comfortable atmosphere, despite all the apparent faults.

We found a table in the back corner of a side room where J and I sat down while the boys got some drinks. Jen and I were not the type to sit down for too long, especially after a few hours drinking, so as soon as the boys had taken a seat we were up and on the dance-floor. The crowd was mostly late twenties and older, but it made no difference to us. We could tell the boys were not all that impressed with our choice in bar, they sat at the table drinking their beers with definite scowls drawn across their faces. We intended on making the most of what remained of the night and kept dancing. Neither of us being shy, when men approached us we didn’t mind too much, as long as they showed some respect and weren’t sleazy.

While Jen went back to our table for a drink I continued to dance. A man, probably ten years my senior, began to dance with me. When I smiled the usual introductory chat followed. He was a tall, very solid guy, wearing dark blue, almost black, dress pants and a white long sleeve shirt that had two buttons on the cuff. His black hair was neatly cut, there was only the slightest hint of a five o’clock shadow, and he certainly didn’t look like he’d been out all night. He had plenty of charm and was quite easy to chat to even on a crowded dance-floor when we had to almost yell in each other’s ear to be heard over the music. He showed me a dazzling smile, although it didn’t quite reach his dark eyes, even after I’d informed him that I was not single. He seemed like a nice enough man out with a few of the boys and making small talk while enjoying the band and a dance. When the band finished the song they were playing I politely excused myself and sat at the table with Jen and the boys. Of course the questions flew fast and furious as to what this guy had wanted and whether or not I had informed him that I had a boyfriend.

I didn’t notice him until he’d sat down beside me, the man I had been dancing with. He leaned in close and spoke into my ear, asking me to go to the bar with him so he could buy me a drink and remove himself from the death stares the boys were giving him. I saw no harm and followed him into the back room where the bar was. He told me he worked locally; he had his own business and was quite proud of where he was at in life. I thanked him for the drink and bid him good night after a short time. A few minutes after I’d returned to my friends a man I hadn’t seen until now came to the table and handed me a business card. It was the card of my charming dance partner, this was his friend who informed me that he apparently wasn’t allowed to go home to bed until I’d gone and said goodbye to his mate. The boys were glaring, Jen looked at me and laughed. Looking at the business card in my hand and then back to Jen I started to get up. I turned around after taking a few steps and leant in to Jen telling her I’d be no more than five minutes. Putting the business card in my pocket I followed the messenger.


*Names have been changed for privacy.
© 2005

Snap Shot of My Life: Turning Point - Part 2

Read Part 1 first!

Note- This is a long piece so I'm splitting it in half. As always your comments are welcomed but in this case I may not respond to them. I felt compelled to write this now, I'm not sure why. It wasn't an easy write and may not be an easy read for some.

*** *** ***

He was outside on the narrow patio that ran along the length of the cottage. The only other people out there were the two bouncers standing either side of the door. When I reached him he took my hand and pulled me towards the step. Surprised, I followed to the top of the steps while asking where he thought I was going. His reply was simply that he wanted to be a little away from the noise inside which was carried outside only slightly muffled to the patio. I turned and looked at the bouncers who were watching the two of us; one of them smiled and I stepped down the stairs one at a time. Now standing on the footpath my new friend turned to face me. In one movement he wrapped his arms around my waist pulled me towards him and began to kiss me. My reactions felt too slow when I pulled my face away from his and reminded him I had a boyfriend. He laughed.

I tried to step away from him but his arms were holding me close to him and I was no match. That dazzling smile returned to his lips as he lifted me off the ground. Now I felt so small, so out of control as he held me by the waist with my legs dangling in the air and my arms trying to push him away, my whole body squirming, asking him to put me down. I turned my head to see if the bouncers were watching this and as I did I’m sure I saw them both quickly turn the other way. I was beginning to panic, this wasn’t just for fun anymore, and I wanted to get back inside to my friends. He lowered me to the ground but not long enough for me to feel relief, this time he lifted me and literally put me over his shoulder and turned to cross the road. This time I screamed for him to put me down as my hands beat against his back and my legs kicked the air in front of him.

As I screamed at him I was looking up and down the street and to the front of the wine bar. There were a few people walking down the road, too far away to pay us much attention and three or four people walked out of the bar looked at me once before they turned right and walked up the street. The two bouncers still stood at either side of the door.

It seemed to me time had slowed down. It must have only taken a minute for him to carry me across the road and to the parked 4WD yet it felt like much longer as I yelled at him. I heard the car unlock and he opened the rear door and threw me across the seat. He was quick to climb in behind me as I scrambled to sit myself up. Closing the door behind him he turned to me and smiled that smile again, his eyes were lit up. I turned and opened the door beside me, as I did the alarm began to sound and he quickly reached across me and closed it. With a click of a button he turned the alarm off and locked the doors. Returning his attention to me he slapped me across the face and told me not to be stupid. Tears streamed down my face.

There was a lot of room between the front seats and the back seat, where we were. He was hunched over in front of the seat and he lifted my legs back onto the seat. I no longer knew what to do, I was no match for him physically and I couldn’t get out of the car. I began to scream again. He slapped me across the face, harder this time telling me “to shut the fuck up”. All I could do was to listen to him and hope that *Jen or one of the boys would come to look for me soon. I had told Jen I would be only five minutes, my bag was inside still she’d know I wouldn’t leave, she would know to come and look for me if I was much longer.

He pulled my shoes off my feet and then roughly began to pull my pants down my legs. As he put his finger through the side of my underwear to pull them down he leaned in and again kissed me. Once he had me naked from the waist down he began to undo his own pants. I realized I was repeating the words “no” and “please don’t” over and over and tears were still streaming down my face. I began to speak louder as he moved to climb on top of me. I could see the excitement in his eyes; he had no plans to stop until he had got what he wanted. He climbed on top of me and pushed himself inside me as he roughly kissed my neck. I screamed “No” into his ear and he slapped me again.

I don’t know how long he stayed on top of me, but it was quite a while. After some time I heard my name being called outside. When he finished the only words he spoke to me were “get dressed bitch” which I struggled to do. He opened the door and stepped out then grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out. I fell onto the footpath and he closed the door, went round to the front of the car and jumped into the drivers seat. He took off before I had even managed to pull myself to my feet.

With tears still streaming down my face I looked around hoping to see J and the boys. They were across the road looking at me. I walked over and one of the boys handed me my handbag. None of them asked what happened, they simply told me we were going to find a cab to go home. The look on all of their faces was that of total disgust.


*Names have been changed for privacy.
© 2005

Meh

I've had a rather fucked in the head kind of day

Achieved little of what I set out to do

Too long thinking of something I cannot change

The last of those tears have fallen! no more

Stuffed around with attempted distractions

There are more photos in my "Sydney" gallery

More writing has been flowing, though not smoothly

Giving up is not always the easy way out!

Can't Explain

My energy levels are still not where they should be

My concentration still lasts only short periods of time

I feel almost nothing, almost all the time, no major emotion

I knew to expect the headaches, dizziness and the shaking

I expected a change in how I felt, the irritability and snapping

Giving up my two big vices has left me almost empty inside

My mind has run, non-stop at a million miles a minute

Thoughts fragmented, scattered, relentlessly circling my head

Creativity lost, shoved down too deep and struggling to breath

When will I begin to feel like me for longer than a few minutes

Good Cause

About three months ago I shaved my head, for charity

Well actually my mother took the clippers and did it for me

When I say shaved it wasn't all bald and buffed to reflect the sun

My hair was about 10mm in length, which if you ask me, is shaved!

I've come to realise that I didn't think this through all that well

I'm lucky in that I own a lot of hats and several bandanas

In three months I've had about four weeks I've had hair I can manage!

I scare myself when I look in the mirror, I have a bad hair day every day!

The up-side, it's the first time in over ten years I've had my natural hair colour!

Snap Shot of My Life: A Christmas to Forget

Drew usually spends a week or more with his father around Christmas time, 2003 was no different. He’d just finished his first year of school. His Dad picked him up after school on Friday, but on Sunday he came home for a few hours so that he could attend a friend’s birthday party. I took him to the party and he laughed and played and ran around with all the other children. He went back to his fathers in the afternoon with only three more sleeps ‘til Santa came.

The next day I was sorting through Christmas presents and trying to work out if I’d forgotten anyone this year. I received a phone call late in the morning, almost lunchtime, it was Drew’s father, Mark*.

“Hello,” I always answer the phone in a civil manner, not quite pleasant to him. I’m not a “bitter ex”; I just really don’t like him. Almost everything about him annoys me. I try to keep the contact at a minimum but of course we’ll always have to deal with each other where Drew is concerned. I limit my side of the conversations to Drew and anything to do with Drew only. I don’t see any need in discussing anything else, as much as he tries to at times.

“Hi, I’m just calling to ask if Drew is allergic to anything as far as medicine goes?”

“Why? But no, not as far as we know, he’s never really had to take all that much.” I answer this automatically, but think a father should know this.

“Oh ok, I just wanted to check because I’m allergic to penicillin and mum is about to take Drew to the doctor, he’s got stomach pains.” Came the reply in that monotone voice I’ve come to loath.

“Why aren’t you the one taking him? How long has he had the pains? Make sure you call me to let me know how he is when you get back.” This is the man I thought I loved at one time. He still lives with his parents and finds it hard to take responsibility for anything, including looking after his son.

“He wants Nan to go with him. He woke up at 4.30 this morning sick and upset. I gave him some Panadol and he went back to sleep. He’s still got the pains though. Will call you when they get back.”

“Ok, bye”

So I go back to my presents, wrapping and organizing them under the tree. I was not overly concerned as Mark didn’t seem to be, although I wished Drew was home so that I could be the one looking after him. I managed to get all of the Christmas presents wrapped and under the tree and had my lunch. A couple of hours passed with no return call from Mark, I began watching the clock and carrying the phone around with me waiting and willing it to ring. Finally it did.

“Hello”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call earlier I forgot to when they got home and got sidetracked.” That voice takes only seconds before it gets on my nerves.

“Well how is he? What did the doctor say?” I really don’t care what sidetracked him or why he hasn’t called, only about Drew.

“He said it’s just some 24hour stomach bug, he gave him antibiotics.”

“Why has he given him antibiotics if it’s just a 24hr bug? What else did he say? What is the antibiotic called?” Mark and I have always had differing views on Doctors and medication. I go to the Doctor when necessary and I take medication when necessary, but I make absolutely certain it is. I don’t take a doctor’s word as gospel and I ask a lot of questions. Mark on the other hand had been known to go to his doctor purely to get a medical certificate, because he’d taken a “sickie” from work. He’d come home with the certificate and a two-week course of antibiotics, that he would proceed to take.

“I don’t know”

~Sigh~ “So where is Drew now and how is he feeling?” I wanted to scream at him, I think I did a little bit, you don’t just take antibiotics for a bug, there has to be more reason or don't take them, at least know why they're being taken.

“He’s laying on the lounge, I think he’s almost asleep. He’s not too bad”

“Ok then, ring me in the morning, or if he gets worse, and let me know how he is?”

“Yeah I will, see-ya”

Apparently Drew did seem to get worse that night, so much so that Mark (and his parents) decided it would be best to take him to the Emergency ward in the local Hospital. They sat there for three hours, in which time a nurse gave Drew some Panadol. On finding out that there would still be several hours to wait before being able to see a doctor, Mark decided to take Drew home. I only found this out in the weeks that followed and I was never told it directly.

Tuesday morning comes and goes and I haven’t heard from Mark. I presume that Drew is feeling better and all is fine. I try to call Mark several times, both at home and on the mobile, but I’m unable to catch him so I leave a message.

The phone rang at about 1 o’clock that afternoon.

“Hello”

“Hi Ted… It’s me.” He’s in the car on the mobile; I can hear the traffic and noise in the background.

“How’s Drew?”

“Well, umm don’t panic, but...” Anyone who has heard those words knows, as soon as you hear them the automatic response is to panic! “I’m on my way to the Children’s Hospital with him now,”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” I’m sure he hears the panic in my voice; I can hear it clear as day. Tears slide down my face and my heart is beating too fast.

“I’ve just come from my doctor and he said to take him straight to hospital, he thinks it is appendicitis.”

I can’t really remember the rest of that conversation, I don’t think there was much more said. As soon as I hung up the phone I got organized to leave the house and arranged for my brother to give me a lift to the hospital.

I never want to walk into a room and see my son looking the way he did that day. He was so pale and barely had the energy to move at all. He already had the drip in his arm and they had confirmed appendicitis and started him on antibiotics. It was now a matter of waiting to get into surgery. Being two days before Christmas many doctors were on leave and the wait would be lengthy. Drew lay there with an expressionless look across his face until a shot of pain hit him, when his face would contort and quiet tears would roll down his cheeks. He simply had no energy to complain about the pain or anything else. His eyes alone showed the fear and pain he was in, I could only imagine.

He went into surgery after midnight that night. I waited in the small waiting room just outside recovery, with Mark and his parents. While Drew was in surgery Mark and his parents sat and chat about politicians, childcare and the lack of care in hospitals. The mundane and pointless chatter you find at a dinner party, not exactly what I was in the mood for at that point. An hour passed slowly and no one came to tell us the surgery was over, it was meant to be relatively quick and routine.

When the doctor did finally come out to us, a little after 2am, he informed us we were extremely lucky and our Little boy was fine. Drew’s appendix had burst, he was lucky to be alive, and he would have been in immense pain. They’d had to “clean it out” quite a lot and he needed to be drip fed antibiotics for about a week.


*I’ve changed the name for obvious reasons.

© 2005