Tag Archives: reality

Love in Lockdown

Love in a strange place and time.
Surreal and real at the same time.
Holding on tight to the belief that I am worthy.
Worthy of your love.
Worthy of your soul.

It’s strange yet exhilarating.
I’m scared to let you in
Yet I yearn for your love
Seek out your touch and smell
I lean on you as never before
You sense my fear and stay still
Knowing me more than anyone ever before

You draw me closer
With warm tender words
Show me the real you
Trusting me with your beautiful soul
Begging me not to hurt you
I freeze.
I can’t promise that.
Please anything but that.

This cat has claws
Which swipe and scratch
When people venture too close
I hiss and scream and push away
Anyone who approaches my lair.

Yet you – Foxy – dared to enter
Into my space
My kingdom
My world
One step at a time
You showed me what could be mine
If I dared to put the claws away
And turn to you fur standing on end
Back arched, hissing, yet moving closer
Despite my fear and almost against my will.

I find myself swept into your warm strong arms
Drawing me closer to you
Heart to heart
Eye to eye
Lips to lips
We kiss slowly and gently.
We hold each other carefully
Neither smothering or possessive
We hold our own space
Inviting each other into our world
With warmth, courage and trust.

Trusting that we will do no harm to each other
Trusting ourselves with each other’s heart and soul.

Your Grey stormy eyes see me.
The real me.
Never before have I felt so safe.
Your beautiful calm soul soothing my pain.
What have you got to gain?
What have I to offer other than pain?

When you turn to me,
Bedroom eyes drawing me in,
I want to hold you close,
Smother you In love and tenderness
Release your beautiful soul to be free
Knowing that you will come back to me.

This is a once off love.
Swept through our hearts and off our feet.
A love in strange times.
We fought it,
The timing was wrong,
Vulnerable and exposed
We had no choice but to give in.

When is love ever in the right time?
We whisper to each other
As we explore this precious treasure chest
Of laughter, hope, honesty and desire
We have no choice.
We have no chance
To put on hold our love and desire
So we enter the churning sea.
Together.

Holding hands
Staring deep into each other’s eyes
We jump off the cliff together.
Trusting we will land in wonderland
Made up of two – me and you.

I love you Foxy.

I love your smile,
Your shy approach
Hiding a strength that is deceiving
Your deep still waters calm my chaos
Your pure soul deserves love and passion
All that I have to give is yours.
I promise to try to not hurt us both.
I withdraw my claws,
Silence the hissing
Turn to you with arms held wide
Drawing you closer to me and my warm cocoon of love.
I will do my best to love you deeply, without restraint.
Rose coloured glasses removed to see you clearly and always.

Foxy – I love you no matter where we end up after this crazy, surreal and fucked up time is over. You deserve the sun, the moon, the stars – my world is a better place for having you in it.

You make me want to be a better woman
A better me
For you.
But mainly and importantly – for me.

Lots of luv,
Me
Isabella

Don’t stop swaying – Sophie B Hawkins
https://youtu.be/JU1AxJvAy38

My big mouth.

Warning – long post and hopefully a laugh for someone. I am. 😁🤦🏼‍♀️🧐

It’s so easy to fool everyone that you’ve got it together. I recently divulged some recent thoughts and plans to my GPS of 20 years and they lovingly “dobbed” me into my psychiatrist of 12 months. I thought I had told my GP the REAL BAD thoughts.

Until I saw my psychiatrist 3 days later🤦🏼‍♀️. Firstly – she was horrified – “why didn’t we know?” – my response was “Look at me – no one would ever guessed – I’m always “on” and well presented” (hello shopping addiction ❤️ U).

Then she REALLY hit the big time – …”…medication ain’t gunna cut it!” she cried! “…It’s a band aid fix!!!…“

“The Drama of Gifted Child” by Alice Miller was almost ordered as mandatory reading. Then the shocker – once weekly intense therapy sessions with her … “most people need 12-18 sessions Isabella….. you …. you’re looking at intense therapy of up to 30-40 sessions!!!” and inpatient DBT therapy!!!!

“Do you have private health insurance?” she queries yet again. …. same answer – no. “Well this is my specialty and I don’t mean to be rude Isabella but I charge $300 an hour – and I don’t bulk bill or take private health insurance”. We both looked at each other – both immediately hoped that the lovely (unnamed for privacy reasons) funding will agree to pay for her …. we have decided to proceed and charge. THEN deal with them if they reject the additional costs. I love acting first apologising later!!!

As for private health insurance – I do now! Hello top private Heath insurance company- welcome to draining my savings.

THEN this little black duck went back to her GP (I ❤️ Them) and thanked her for “dobbing me in”. When I mentioned the car/garage, my GP looked majorly confoosed… spun around to her computer notes and said “I don’t remember you mentioning THAT!” That’s when I realised …… I HADN’T ACTUALLY TOLD HER THE ENTIRE “BAD” bits!!!! So essentially dobbed myself in twice. 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ ****Note – Phenergan fucks me up big time****

So I threw out my Phenergan a second time in 3 weeks….

Clearly all this shit is why I was abusing substances for so long…. and a deeper me wants help not….. the other alternatives.

Lessons for me: my inner core and other internal/external drivers want to live life with peace, calm and something called happiness. At just over 3 years sober I’m smacking my forehead and saying to my lovely medical team – this is why I drank and drugged…. to avoid these memories and feelings.

This is why I’m so fucking alone in the world:

    No family – except two males I keep at text/email distance,
    close acquaintances I see every 4-6 weeks maximum 2-3 hours whom I’ve know maximum of 3-4 years,
    an erratic, beautiful fucked up guy since 2013 in/out of my life (hello Joey!)
    Nil social outings or I rotate/space out lunches or dinners or I have spurts of social engagement that drains me and leaves me vulnerable and agitated.
    No job or career aspects anymore.
    Income protection kicking in soon.
    The option of employment is out of the window for at least 12 months.
    Medicated but not a zombie.
    Hobbies include reading, new to gardening and …. online shopping.
    On bad days I lay on the couch watching the sun and clock move from morning to night so I can go to sleep.
    I see blood and death everywhere….
    I have three cats that calm me.
    l look great on the outside – even act it for a while…. guys think I’m awesome. Until they get into a relationship (I snare them quickly before they get away) and realise I am not wife material or as good as I seemed. But they’ve hung in there bless their cotton socks – coz I look good … and have other talents that I’ve refined over the years. I know my worth and skills – “a lady in the living room …. a whore in the bedroom..” 😉 Never been into casual sex – I’m too clingy. 😳🤣🤦🏼‍♀️

I truly believe I’ve been cursed or my soul lesson is to learn to be completely alone – everyone dies or leaves me. In my 20’s and 30’s when I had friends we would joke that everything does around me. 2013 onwards – it’s no longer a joke but reality. If I followed Buddhism faithfully, or at all, I would believe my life journey is to learn to live without attachment to people, places and things. And that’s ok.

Drinking is not an option – I refuse to die a drunk. But I haven’t ruled out euthanasia or other means …. but that’s for another day and decade hopefully.

AA program and beliefs (I don’t go to meetings anymore), other program tools, sober acquaintances and a strong belief in my Higher Powers (I’m so special I have a few 😉) a stupid internal resilience and ego keeps me alive, sober and trying to break the curse – one day at a time. Not friends, family or other social connections. Just my Drs, cats and an internal driver.

Luv,

Me

xxxx

Changes… are for the best – right???

Blog name change from “Just Be Normal” when I first started this blog in 2011/2012(?).

My now ex partner used to shout that at me …..”Just be normal!!!!!!”. He did not understand that I didn’t know what normal was, I didn’t know who I was …. so how could I be something when I didn’t know anything else?

Close to 7 years later, I now know why I didn’t know what “normal” was (or is).

Please do not start the “…who wants to be normal anyway…” crap. Only people who have had the standard childhood and have houses, partners, children, jobs, friends, hobbies and holidays think they know what normal is. I am nowhere near having any of that now – except the house (thank my higher power and family) and friends I keep a safe distance away from me – logistically and emotionally.

So – new blog name – Unfathomable Life – because I don’t understand why I have this shit to deal with. Some of it’s my own doing, however, most of the unravelling of me, my mind and my life is due to other people’s actions.

I don’t know how I have ended up right where I am today.

I am totally alone, no family except two males I keep a huge distance from.

No partner – well today that is – tomorrow or next week we may be seeing each other again (Joey is for another day).

No job, no employment or study plans on the future – just hours of therapy apparently ahead of me. Outpatient may be 30 – 40 hourly sessions a week and/or inpatient DBT therapy. I have no idea.

All I know is that I’ve joined the highest rank of Private Health Insurance to be able to be treated as an inpatient after two months. It costs a bomb.

I know that is 5pm and I’m done for the day – on my bed and just wanting to sleep the night away. That’s not normal for a 45 year old. I’ve done my household chores, eaten a pie (unusual- normally donuts for dinner lately) and re started this blog.

I have a long to do list and have spent the past 3 months working on updating my back Garden and house so it is an oasis of calm.

This week is the first week since May that I have only small projects to do. And I feel disconnected, invisible, alone and, at times, calm. I count my blessings, know my fortunate circumstances and am grateful. Yet I cannot get away from the fact I’m stuck with childhood trauma and feelings that are surfacing every day that I have to manage.

I cannot forget that no one wants me, no one needs me and no one truly cares. I know that the people in my life care for me – even love me – but that doesn’t change the fact that 24/7 I am alone.

It’s completely unfathomable to me how this life of mine has turned out like this. I believe that I am toxic and destined for people to leave or die. Destined to be alone for eternity.

Enough lamenting as Joey would say.

Night, night.

Isabella.

2019 – Unfathomable Life Events

This wonderfully accurate drawing by Red Howling is the month of August’s featured cartoon in my Pets of the Homeless Australia calendar.

Both are Australian companies who passionately, and creatively, work to engage and support our vulnerable members of our society.

In turn, this sums up my year to date.

I have posts that I have not made public on this blog – will do so over the next few weeks.

Fair to say that 2019 is nothing like I expected, I am in a strange but safe place in life.

Christmas Eve I felt my self snap – I simply broke inside – my ability to bounce back, my spark, my life force was snuffed out. Since then I’ve declined rapidly, despite extensive and increased professional medical support and therapy.

I again find myself unemployed, unemployable and without the ability to even think of work – this has never happened to me before. I’ve always been a worker and thrown myself into jobs, careers and education to re-create myself. Driven by money, sense of self through profession and need to be needed – dreaming of work, working 50 – 60 hour weeks, 7 days a week. Starting at 6.30 in the morning and leaving at 6 pm at night to do more work.

I’ve burnt out, been burned professionally and lost trust, hope and faith in the corporate world.

Since the start of May, I haven’t worked and will not be returning to work again in the foreseeable future. I cannot even manage minimal tasks without sensory overload, I’ve reverted back to old behaviours which I try to keep in check.

The remainder of 2019 remains a mystery – one thing I do know is that I cannot even think of working or studying – I have an internal meltdown. Apparently I have a huge amount of therapy and work on myself that I cannot even fathom the enormity of what I’ve hidden for so many years.

To sum it up, my house, garden and cats are my safe haven for now and I keep stimulus to a minimum to the best of my ability.

My plan is to write, undertake therapy and nurture self through gardening indoor and outdoor plants and gardens and seek minimal communication with friends. It’s all too overwhelming.

Yet, I am safe, calm in this very second, and know that I have done the best I can.

Speak soon.

Love,

Me.

Isabella.

xxxxx

Fractured

Fractured and torn.

Upside down and inside out.

Losing grip on reality, capturing it for a fleeting moment, only to watch the wisp of normality slip through my fingers.

The Boy: “Just be normal!!!”

Me (screaming): “WHATS NORMAL????? HOW AM I NOT NORMAL?????”

I know I am not ‘normal’ – and please don’t start the age old debate about what is normal is abnormal – we don’t need to intellectualize the concept.

I am struggling with normal reactions, emotions and how to respond in social situations – I have always had to be careful, wary and watchful to ensure that my reactions are appropriate. I am constantly trying to assess my reactions, copy others, think of the way I should be responding rather than being the awkward adolescent I am.

The longer I am sober, without drink or drugs, the harder it is to hide the fact that my grasp on reality and life is tenuous at best. Since I can remember, I have always looked for cues on how to behave, react and just be – I have used other peoples perceptions and standards be my guide on who to be.

To my grandparents – I was the perfectly respectful grand-daughter who always wore the clothes they liked, had my hair neatly in a bun or ponytail, stood silently until spoken to, called everyone Mrs/Mr and was the most politest child I could possibly be. In return I had their unconditional love and support, the safety of their home and was looked after well. I was loved.

To my mother – I was the Mother. I looked after her. I was the grown up. I still am today, although I feel like a lie, an alien and I wonder how long I can keep up appearances.

I always related best with adults – they always had an agenda and an expectation of who I was. Children didn’t – they allowed you to be who you wanted to be which was scary as I didn’t know who I was. So I became a grumpy, surly and defensive little thing – hard to make friends with, but once you broke down the ice fortress I was overly sensitive and continually watching and trying to fit in.

Now, as an adult, I am lost. Completely and utterly lost. I don’t know who I am, where I am going or who I want to be. I am raw, without protection or layers of skin – I have been flayed in the last 6 weeks until I do not know who I am. Nor do I have people around me who want to tell me who I am – they just want me to be me.

How can I be me if I am afraid of me? Afraid of who I will find if I let me out. I am petrified and feel like I have lost grip on everything I had built up – I felt myself in some parts of my job, yet that has gone and that persona is too harsh and structured for real life.

I want to be happy, free and loving – I just don’t know how to be.

I am upside down and inside out and feel like I am in pieces – scared that I will shatter even further until no-one will be able to put the pieces back together again.

Now I know why I was so scared of reality – in reality there is no me.