Progress!

After a massive amount of stalling and not knowing where we are going with the moving in front...we have progress!

It's slow going at the moment, as property is in hot demand at the moment and as we aren't in a hurry we can afford to be picky.  

We have however started the dreaded task of packing and decluttering.  We have two houses to pack up..this shit is going to take forever.

I have been making money out of it however.  I've been going through my stuff and anything that I don't want but is still in good condition then I sell it.  I've made $120 so far.  That is going into my drinking/kid free weekend kitty.

I'm so excited an it has given me something to look forward to and work towards.  I cannot wait to be a family unit.  To have Paul come home to us every night.  To not have to ration our time over the weekends anymore.  Sure after a couple of weeks we will probably be at each others throats...I'm gonna love it :)

Say it like you mean it

Edenland

This week is all about saying sorry...for anything and everything.

I'm sorry that I was in to the too hard basket.  I'm sorry that you're easy fix didn't work.  I'm sorry that I push anyone away who gets too close.  I'm sorry that I still think about hurting myself even though you think I shouldn't.

I'm sorry that sitting on the couch staring into space is easier.  I am sorry that I yell more than I talk.  I'm sorry that you just want a hug and I push you away. I'm sorry that the DVD player plays with you more than I do.  I'm sorry that I don't have the energy to do anything about it.  

I'm sorry I was so difficult. I'm sorry that I kicked, screamed and scratched just to not being your presence.  I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain.  I'm sorry I wasn't perfect. I'm sorry I gave up to easy.  I'm sorry I didn't try harder.

I'm sorry I screwed up..that I continued to screw up even when I knew the right way.  I'm sorry that I am more scared to live than I am to die.

I'm sorry.

I'm a weirdo, you're a weirdo, we're all weirdos

So obviously I've been very 'inspired' lately, seeing as though all of my posts lately have been link ups....

Anyhoo onto the business at hand...This weeks Fresh Horses is about the blogging world.  It's about why we do it, and who influences us.

First off..why I do it.  I first started it because I needed to get shit out...I'm Stewy McStew so I needed an outlet.  Other than ranting on my Facebook status every five minutes.  People get bored with that pretty quickly.  I needed somewhere separate, that I wasn't going to get a phone call every 5 seconds from family because of a 'worrying' status update that was actually a song lyric.  

Now it has sort of morphed into wanting to 'help' someone, anyone who stumbles across my blog by letting them know that they aren't completely alone in what they feel. 

There is no other place to start my list of uber cool bloggers than with Jo. She's a pretty awesome chick who isn't afraid to tell it like it is.  Jo started me on my love of blogging and the people involved in it.  She lit the kindling and continues to help stoke the flames of creativity.  She can also be found over here.

Next on my list is Sharon who is a Sparkly Panda.  I stumbled across her blog through Digital Parents and am so glad that I did.  She is not afraid to scream and yell and curse when things turn to shit, which is a relief for those of us who live in the real world.  Sharon has also been a huge (mammoth) support to me the last week, when shit got hard and the 'professionals' were dragging their arse.  Without her checking in (as well as many other friends, both IRL and online) I don't know how I would have coped.  Despite her own troubles she still reached out to a fellow blogger in need.

One last Biatch on The List is Mumma Hozza.  She says fuck a lot, just like me.  She makes beautiful babes and even survived a stint living with the inlaws.  

Why do you blog? Who is on The List? Show some linky love, head over to Eden and tell your story.

Fresh Horses

I really wasn't sure if I should link up to this, this week.  I didn't know how to approach it and whether I should, given the way that I have been feeling of late.  I however decided to look at it as a celebration of beating the odds rather than the morbid dwelling on death.

When I was 15, doctors told me that if I continued the way I was, that they would be surprised if I made it to 16...I outlasted that prediction.  Much to my dismay.

When I was 18, they told me if I continued the way that I was that I would be lucky to make it to 21.  Here I am almost 3 years later...beating the odds.  I'm still here battle scars and all.  

My behaviours didn't change until 3 years ago...I guess I must have always had a small glimmer of hope.  Even when I was downing 100's of pills.

I'm lucky that I haven't suffered any long term physical side effects. Shit got messy but the scars show that I survived.  I fought and I won...just.

Do you know what you'd want to be your funeral song? Would it be a celebration of beating the odds? Link up with Edenland and tell your story too.

Crisis Schmisis

Last night I realised the positive power of social media and once again the short falls of my local after hours crisis centre.  I am both amazed and appalled that women who I have never met IRL helped more than trained 'professionals'.

Things came to a head like a great big pussy pimple and I needed help stat!  I had been texting my best friend back and forth most of the day.  I had been waiting a week for my case manager to call me back, I missed her call.  I spent the rest of the day building up the confidence to call back and working out what to say.  I finally called her back and she told the receptionist that she would call me back...she didn't...again.

I have very, very, very little faith in my local crisis team and inpatient unit.  So the fact that I relented and called them, I think shows the frame of mind that I was in, and the distress that I was feeling.  

As soon as a voice answered on the other end I blurted out "I want to cut myself".  He asked if I had spoken to anyone else about this and I said that I had been waiting for my case manager to call me back but she hadn't.  What did he surmise from this? That the solution to my crisis was to send my case manager an email and problem fixed.  I started crying and asked what I was supposed to do in the mean time? His answer? I sent your case manager an email, problem solved.  I called him a wanker and hung up.

He called back...I won't bore you with the details but the conversation pretty much followed the same line as the first one...my problem was already solved.  I told him I wasn't coping with my child and the care of him and he told me that everyone goes through that and to suck it up, go watch a movie and it will blow over. I. Am. Not. Kidding.

The scary thing about this experience? It's not a one off, they weren't just having a bad night.  I can count on one finger the amount of times that they  have been helpful.  They are the first port of call before being hospitalised.  If you present at the ED, you have to pass these gate keepers.  Depending on the time that you present...you might not even see a doctor before being sent on your merry way.  Regardless of your state you can be sent on your way without seeing a doctor.

I have been dragged to the ED by police and still they said that the Dr didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed and send me on my way.  Even the police were appalled.  

The first time I had contact with them my parents had driven 8 hours for the 'privilege' only to be told 'she's not old enough to be in our unit' even though at the time I was 18 and a half.  Our referring GP was told that I was guaranteed a bed and that I needed to be hospitalised.  It took my mum 'making a scene' for them to admit me.  Even though I had just gone through surgery to fix something I had done to myself, I wasn't considered 'sick enough'.

I am really appalled that as a developed country we still have this fight to have mental illness treated and to be treated with respect.  Most of the time we don't have the energy to jump through the hoops they set for us and self harm, criminal activity, drinking, taking drugs is just 'easier' than having to deal with the crap these 'professionals' deal us.

Decided to link up with Dear Baby G's For Fuck Sake Friday.  Pop over and show some comment love or link up with a post if you have something that has been driving you up the wall this week.

Fuckitol

Today I need a big dose of this....

Everything is compounding and it feels as though nothing is going the way it is supposed to.  I sit in the house because I can't be bothered putting on a smile to face the world.  I make plans because I know that staying stuck in my house doesn't do anyone any favours but I pull out at the last minute because I work myself up about it too much.

I finally worked up the courage to ring my case manager, after talking about it extensively with one of my best friends...only to have her not call me back.  I got a phone call two days later to say that she was on holidays, had been all week and wouldn't be back until Monday... I am at a loss as to why the receptionist didn't mention this.  I hate the public health system.

Major is frustrated at me because I won't just 'perk' up.  He of all people should know that it isn't that easy.  Mixed all up with that is anger and frustration.  I want to just get off this damn roller coaster called life.  I'm done.  My case manager will ask me if I feel safe....I have no idea

Neigh

I'm linking up tonight with Edenland for her newest Saturday adventure: Fresh Horses Brigade. This week it's all about Handwriting.  

All through school my weekly reports used to read 'Tegan would do better if her handwriting was neater.' I would have to practice perfect cursive and I hated it.  Ironically I now still use cursive when I write.  The 'f' is my favourite letter to write in cursive, I love how it just flows into the word.

Here is what my my handwriting looks like:

So show some linky love, grab this Meme and head over to Edenland and join in the fun.

Apple of my eye....and shit

I might be a little cynical (ok you can stop rolling your eyes now...no really stop) but these things drive me up the wall.  I don't think that I need to post 500 'inspirational quotes' on my facebook/twitter etc to show that I love my son.  

Also why isn't there any real ones? All of them describe them as being clean and pure and other shit.  Anyone with a child knows that this is about as close to the truth as thinking that a reality tv contestant isn't just in it for the money.  Sure they are perfect in every way to you, but the reality is that sometimes they are just little pains in the arses!  

So I decided to find a few of my own 'inspirational quotes'. Enjoy :D

This is quite possibly the best condom ad I have ever seen!

p.s I really hope no one comes across my blogs by using the search terms I just did