The knife that cuts from within……

There’s nothing more challenging than seeing your children in pain. Nor is there much worse than not being able to answer their questions of “Why?” The girls just can’t get their heads around why they are now growing up without their Dad. Tonight we visited one of his best mates….. I adore him and his family, they are people that I would choose to have in my life, not the variety that I deal with because I have to. I didn’t feel sad all night because they are so wonderful together, or that I wished they were anything but….. but it hit home what I bury on a daily basis…. that I am no longer a part of Trenton, and he is no longer a part of me. I get that he’ll always be in my heart, my memories… my dreams. But he will never hold me in his arms again and I will never feel him as close as we once were, almost molded into one person. Poppy cried the whole way home tonight and she was really nasty and grumpy. I thought it was because I told her I didn’t want her to sleep in my bed…. I sometimes need to go to bed alone and let it all out…. and tonight is one of those nights. But it was actually because Daddy said he’d always be there for her, and he wasn’t. And she’d never feel his giant arms around her again. This thought made her hysterical “Did he know that he died Mum?” “Did he know that he was about to die?” “You know he won’t see me in Grade 2 will he Mum? He didn’t even see me in Grade 1…… does that means he’s been gone for two years Mum?” I never thought for a second that this would be one of my great tests in life. I always knew life was challenging for me sometimes…. even though I most likely created the issues myself. I always chose the wrong peers, did all the things on the very top of the “Never do this” list…… and made some dumb shit decisions. I also stumbled across some incredible experiences from these dumb shit decisions, so it’s not as though I regret them, but certainly I put my folks through some horrendous years of wondering if I’d make it through school, if I’d make it at all. Yet here I am. Still here, when the greatest man I knew is not. Who decided this shit? If you don’t believe in a higher being (I don’t) then who do we blame? Ask? Demand answers from? Mother nature? I can’t answer my babies questions anymore…. cause I can’t “assume” ever again. I may not be around till they’ve grown up. I can’t say “Sure, I’ll be at your wedding to walk you down the aisle….” “Absolutely if a baddy gets into the house I will beat them to death before I let him harm either of you girls….” I will definitely make it back from Europe safe and sound in June…. won’t I? Lets be honest……. will I?? I am all out of temporary answers…. it is now, “I don’t know, I hope so.” My new theory on life is that it’s fucking shit to some people, and not to others. There’s no God up there deciding who dies and how they go, there’s no rhyme or reason with who gets chosen, and there’s no warning unless it’s Cancer or something….. and then you’re supposed to watch them fight for their lives till they can’t fight anymore. Nice. Poppy gets so desperate sometimes I see in her eyes that she wants to climb into my body for protection from this scary world, and come out when she’s an adult and can possibly deal with her lot in life. Will that time come? Her world revolved around that man…. as did Ruby’s. Ruby can’t even talk about him anymore….. it kills her like a knife that cuts from within. You cannot stop the pain from coming, there is no way….. I feel like I am doing alright, till I get this pain in my chest that feels like I’ve just watched a movie of my life unwinding once more before my very eyes again….. the way it did on the 23rd of July 2013. Unravel more like it……. Where I once felt like I had control to a certain degree, I now have none whatsoever. I thought I might feel empowered once this case began with the hospital. But they will have all but forgotten the name of the patient they killed that day. Their insurance companies will fight it to get out of it like any other case, and although I made sure that the hospital implemented changes not long after it occurred, I feel so empty because it’s now just down to money. It was supposed to be a cause….. something where his legacy lived on. He obviously does in our minds, but I want his death to help people as his life so obviously did. Nothing will replace him in our little world. Every time I watch my girls watch other kids with their Daddy’s, my heart will break a little more. As does theirs. So whatever becomes of the hospital, their uneducated mistakes cost us the greatest of lifetimes. It changed our future, forced us down a different road…… and we pay for their mistakes for the rest of our lives, not them. A tough cookie to swallow. Anyway, I’ve had my vent, today is a new day. Such is life I’m afraid. x

When time stops……..

When someone VERY close to you dies, ie: A parent, sibling, partner or child… time stops the very moment they stop breathing. Well it does for those people closest to them anyway. For days and weeks, and even pushing months the sympathy is flowing, the offers of support are in abundance, the fridge is overflowing with home cooked meals and the phone calls/texts/emails keep on coming in daily. When the months turns into a year, then a year becomes more than one…… I guess by then there are others that have experienced the same hell, and possibly worse, and the attention shifts to them. Which is totally understandable…. to be honest you get over being connected to the word “Widow” and it feels good to just be Emm/Mum again. But it is hard to then be given the role of “soldiering on” as one should. When people ask you how you are, they are now expecting you to say “good” because anything else is kind of unacceptable now. I know if I’m really not “good” then I have the right to say so…… but unless you get me on a really bad day, “good” is probably what you’ll get. The fact is, nothing can be said that will change your new role anyway. So there’s really not much point expecting it will! Most days I am doing alright. The role of Mum takes up 98% of my brain capacity, and the only time I really get to not be the Mother of those “poor young girls that saw their Dad die” is when I’m at work. Where I’m still that “poor young woman who watched her husband die” but I’m also a team member that has a job to do, and although I still have a memory like a sieve, I am treated as though I matter! It does get me through. I’ve never had a job where my “life depended on me working.” I now remember back to the stress that Trent used to feel having to make sales, having to meet targets, having to get on so many new clients or he’d lose his job and as the main bread winner in our house, we would all suffer because of it. God, what a horrible feeling that is! I wish I could go back in time and re assure him that I had his back. It would be so nice for him to have mine right now. So when the kids unknowingly make me feel bad for me not buying them something, or taking them somewhere and they whinge and moan about me working when other Mum’s get to stay home with their kids…. well it makes me feel pretty damn shit. Even though I know if Trenton was still here I would still be working…. I guess the pressure of “having” to work is what changes everything. I have moved the girls to another School holiday program these holidays, as the last four holidays I have sent Poppy kicking and screaming, and to be honest it all got too much. It literally rips my heart out when that kid says to me “I just wanna stay home and be with you.” She would probably move into my body if I allowed it. It’s her now thing since Trenton died. She calls from her bed at night to see if I’m still in the lounge. I asked her why one night and she said it’s because she went to bed one night, and the next dad Daddy was dead. How horrendous for a six year old? She will be eight on the 5th of March. Her second birthday without her beloved Dad. These landmarks just keep coming…. a month later he would have been 39. Rubes on the other hand hates the new School holiday program, so next holidays she wants to go back to the other one. So somehow I have to be at two school holiday programs, two suburbs apart at the exact same time three mornings and three evenings a week. No probs! Lucky I’m a superhero! I have finally found a psychologist for Rubes. A lady not far from here who runs her sessions with a dog present. So it’s a type of animal therapy. Since our very last psych session mid last year when she spoke not a word in the session, but instead spelled out the words ” I AM NEVER COMING BACK HERE AGAIN” in a game of Hang Man on the white board to the psychologist who probably thought she was worthy of writing a thesis on, I gave up dragging her along to these places. So fingers crossed she doesn’t just lay down with the dog and completely ignore the psychologist!!! Only time will tell! Poppy who started seeing her new psych mid last year, has spent the last eight sessions talking about what it’s like being a sibling to Ruby, and the issues it brings. We haven’t even touched on the grief side of it yet. The sessions just automatically turned to how difficult and challenging Ruby is, and Linda is teaching her ways to respond, and teach Ruby that it’s not okay. I can see it’s going to be a very long road ahead. I guess there’s no surprises there. On a sort of positive note, thousands of dollars, many meetups with the lawyer and eighteen months later, our case has started against the Hospital. So although another year will probably pass before we even have a court date, at least those cogs are a turning. That’s one thing that I can be sure of, life goes on for those left behind, whether we’re ready for it to or not. I guess we best jump on for the ride. xxx

Kids, Aspergers, ODD……. and booze………….

Man……. I was the kind of exhausted tonight when I came home that I could have fallen through the door and passed out stone cold on the couch. If I didn’t have kids that is. I raced to school holiday program and collected the girls as I felt pretty shitty, and knowing that today had been Rubes first day there since we went last Monday for the girls to “meet” with their new school holiday program ladies….. which went so well as she clearly told me very loudly when we arrived that she was not impressed by it, right in front of them…..and that is looked dead shit boring…..! Awesome start to the year. She loved her old place, but all the kids were rough as guts and Poppy just felt bullied there, and of course most of the kids she felt bullied by were Ruby’s mates. So Poppy’s happy, and Ruby not so much….. can’t win them all. It’s getting harder and harder to get them there…..Little do they know that I need to work more hours not less, and next holidays will be more days in care…… if only I could afford a Nanny! I wrote in my blog the other day (not one that I shared on Facebook) that I was starting to get the mega meltdowns that Trenton and I used to get, that seem to come at this time of year every year were she howls and screams, smashes herself in the face, kicks walls and abuses me begging me to not send her back to the same school again where everyone hates her. (Everyone doesn’t hate her, but she’s still yet to hold a friendship down for very extended period of time…….) Damn I wish those bitchy girls at school understood Rubes disability, cause if they could take a walk in her shoes for a day or two, they would realise just how hard it is to be her in the first place. Kids can be so cruel. And I guess I can’t blame them, I find it hard enough to wrap my head around it and I live with it 24/7. Tonight Rubes screamed at me to call someone to take her away so that she would not get up in the night and kill herself. She had a knife to her wrist and she begged me to let her do it….. Of course being a hypochondriac she cannot hurt herself as she’s terrified of even a tiny amount of pain…… but it’s gut wrenching to watch, and I know when she says it what she’s really wanting is just to be out of her body for five minutes to have a break from the mega anxiety, OCD tendencies, inappropriate things that come out of her mouth…. and just a great lack of control with the things that she says and does in general. It’s horrendous….. I mean I know what it felt like after Trent died to want to escape your body. That’s where the booze came into for me. It was the closest thing to getting a “time out” from my pain, suffering and horrible flashbacks that I could get. So get it I did. What can an eleven year old kid get? There is no time out from her struggles. She may come across as a tough as boots, bloody heartless bitch sometimes, but when I see that other side she so carefully hides from the general public, I realise she is just a kid, trying to deal with the death of her daddy, the re-introduction of a Father she hasn’t had in her life for nine years, and her multiple diagnosis’ that she wishes to God she never copped in the first place. She ran away tonight, and Poppy and I were out the front yelling her name for ages….. she made it nearly to the shops when she realised it was getting dark…. thank God she came back. So I tried to punish her for being snappy and irritable after School holiday program, but her way of retaliation was to have a three year old tantrum, threaten to kill herself and then run away….. hmmmmm it seems I’m not doing something right. Just not sure what to change this time….. am too tired to think about it actually. I begged her to see a psychologist….. but we’ve had such shit experiences in this department that she has well and truly decided they’re all a bunch of twats and they can all get fucked. The last psych appointment we made it to, she had selective mutism for the first half an hour,(Not a word passed her lips for the entire visit actually) then she got a white board marker and started playing hang man to the psycho’s delight! She slowly through a series of games wrote out “I-Will-NEVER-COME-BACK-TO-THIS-PLACE.” Of course the psychologist thought it was a break through… but I knew better. She knows just what to say and when to say it to these therapists. She’s actually playing them like a game, and enjoys it thoroughly…. Sometimes I think “Isn’t it enough we’re all grieving the big man, the best Dad, my best mate…..? Do we really need this extra shit in our lives?” Someone seems to think we got this shit sorted……. I’d love to meet them face to face that’s for sure! I’m done now with the sad things in life…… I want some wonderful things to happen for my girls now thanks, they have had a lifetime of pain in their combined 18 years on earth….. enough is enough already. x

A Modern Family………………

So I always thought I had a modern family scenario. Trenton came along and changed mine and Ruby’s lives when she was just 18 months old. I’ve said in my previous posts that I thought that once I had been left to raise a child alone that I felt like tainted goods…. and wondered who would take on not only me, but another mans child. Such a silly way to think, but I was young and insecure. Trenton never cared for a second that I was a “package deal!” Our first ever proper date was at my house with all my closest friends and my daughter….. talk about pressure on the big man! He coped like a true champion, and my friends adored him within hours. He slotted into my life like he had always bee there, and although everything moved quickly, it all seemed perfectly normal. I find myself now in a “New Modern Family.”Last night I drove Rubes out to her birth Fathers house, and we ordered pizza and ate while Ange’s and my kids ran around together. It was actually a really cool night. Rob met Ange when she already had two kids from two separate relationships. The first one a daughter who lives with her full time who is now fourteen. She is a beautiful and well mannered young lady, and Ruby has fallen madly in love with her as a sister. Already they have started setting up a bedroom for Rubes right next door to Monique. The second child is a feisty little three year old called Phoenix, the relationship he came from was not a healthy one at all, and the Dad took her to court and won almost full custody of him, so he’s there Wednesdays and every second weekend. (To Ange’s utter dismay.) But he follows Ruby around like a little tail, and is madly in love with her! So when we are there, there are four kids from four different Dad’s (as Ruby is from Rob and Poppy from Trenton) and it just doesn’t feel weird at all anymore. The only bad part of the new Modern family scenario of course, is that Trent isn’t a part of it. He would be so happy to see Rob finally pulling his life together, and stepping up to the plate when it come’s to Rubes. There have been failed attempts in the past when he was still not mentally ready or well, but this time he is 100% there, and it is a nice feeling for Ruby to finally have this support from him. Nine years of feeling like you did something wrong to make your father leave you is long enough for any child. I know Trenton would have forgiven his years of fucking up, because he knew more than anything how important it was to Rubes to mend this relationship, and regain access to her MANY relatives on Rob’s side. She has already re-met her cousins (including a new baby) her Aunties and Uncles, her Nonna and Nonno, her great Nonna and the rest of the extended family. It is wonderful to see her eyes light up as she talks about them all. I know how hard this is on Poppy, but because of Poppy’s incredible heart, she is jealous, but happy for Rubes at the same time. And she is definitely adoring the Mummy/Poppy weekends we now get. So yes this situation feels extremely strange to head back into, and I won’t pretend there haven’t been loads of tears (mine) and loads of mega meltdowns (Poppy and Ruby.) But I guess this is where the Modern Family term came from. It reminds us about life’s unpredictability. I said on my thirtieth birthday that If you told me I’d be married with two kids at thirty I’d have laughed in your face!! But I also said at Trent’s memorial, that if you told me I’d be widowed with two kids at 35, I’d have slapped you across the face. Who would ever imagine such a thing happening? It’s like scoring the kid with the special needs, no one asks for it or wants it to be, but it just is. Life is not predictable, and never will be. I cannot tell you where we’ll be in another ten years, I just know it won’t be where we imagine. I just hope we’ve all found a little happiness in our lives again. Just like I never imagined Rob being back in our lives, or even being happy himself, I guess I was wrong, as he is both. So we’ll jump back on that roller-coaster, and wait to see where it stops….. and deal with what lays ahead when we get there. Cause what else can you do? xx


Yeah, so my positive attitude didn’t quite go as far as I’d hoped it would. I am still “grateful” for all the wonderful things that I have in my life, but all good runs must come to an end, and the feeling of what I’m missing out on is creeping in again. I was so proud of how my girls and I handled this past Christmas… a tough time of year to be missing a loved one, as we all know all too well. Then the dreaded New Years, which was a great night because I placed no expectation on it, and held it at home for a quick escape should the need arise. The need didn’t arise, it was just “really nice.” But I forgot that what comes after every New Years and Christmas is that feeling of “Now what?” So we survived another year……. So what? My bed is still empty, my heart is still in turmoil, my kids and I are still yearning desperately for those big arms wrapped around us all, and I’m still not coping in my new soul parenting role. The house is beautiful, but enormous to look after. I have no energy or drive to garden, the list of things that should have been New Years resolutions are up to my eyeballs now, yet I can’t get going in any direction. My eldest is hitting puberty and the mood swings, extra high anxiety and abuse are unbearable…. but it’s the constant threatening of suicide from her, a mere eleven year old child that is hurting the most. I know she is not “really” suicidal….. She has been saying she wants to die for as long as I can remember. I know it is her way of saying “I just need five minutes out of my own head away from my thoughts because of my Aspergers, Adhd and ODD…. that would be ace thanks Mum.” It’s so hard to hear when you can’t give her exactly that. (The first time she started talking suicide was when she was in prep, and she rang the kids helpline and talked to some bloke for 45 minutes……. she googled the number.) But it’s tough to hear day in and day out, and her seven year old sister worries all the time that she actually will do something stupid. At the end of each year of school for as long as I can remember, the last couple of months, and then the first couple of months of the following year are hell. I often forget how hard until it lands in my lap once again. Christmas blinds me from it until the “over the top celebrations” are over once more, and then there it is again. This year is grade 6 for Rubes. Her last year of primary school before she is out of my grasp and off into “the big, bad world” on her own. I still haven’t found a school that I think can cope with her that doesn’t cost $20,000 a year….. So although Trenton and I began looking in Grade 1 (we had already done three High School tours before he died. A necessity when you have a child like Rubes.) here I am in her final year, and I’m none the bloody wiser!!!! For some stupid reason I feel like it’s a make or break decision with her….. Like if I pick the wrong school she’ll rebel and get knocked up in year nine or something! (Okay….. a little overkill? Perhaps………) Maybe I’m putting too much pressure on it and should trust in her ability to survive! Poppy will probably cry when Ruby is no longer at the primary school with her, but she will shine without Ruby’s shadow (and reputation) to have to cower in. I worry about her less at school but more on the streets (Not a streetwise kid that is for sure…..) and Ruby I will forever be concerned about at school and in social situations, yet she is so street smart and capable….. I will not worry about her there… Apart from her selective memory when it comes to coming home in “five minutes!” These are normal family concerns, I know. So yeah, a downer of a diary entry tonight I’m afraid, but I’m sure that looking down the barrel of a full year is always daunting and scary, and so much more so when you have that reassuring partner behind you saying “We got this.” Oh to hear that voice say those three little words to me once more. I’d give an arm and a leg. And an internal organ or two. Well 2015, whether you’re going to be kinder to me than the last two years, only time shall tell…… so let’s get a wriggle on hey? The suspense is killing me. x