Archives for May 2011

A letter to my old life (when I was an axe)

My husband sometime lovingly refers to me as “his grandfather’s axe”.  The first couple of times that he did this I thought he was rather insane, perhaps a little delusional after all I I know I’m sharp but I always thought I was more pencil than axe.

But the thing is I wasn’t always a pencil and the story of the grandfather’s axe is quite beautiful

There was a man who inherited an axe from his father – he loved the axe dearly (as he had loved his father) and he looked after the axe lovingly and with care but time passed and the blade started to lose its keen edge and then little chinks appeared on the edge of the blade.  So the man had the blade replaced and continued to cherish his father’s beautiful axe.

When this man died he left his prized axe to his son who cared for the axe just as carefully as his father had but the axe was old and the handle  eventually broke, so the son replaced the handle and continued to cherish his father’s beautiful axe.

And when he died he passed on his grandfather’s axe to his son… but was it even the same axe? In essence no – no part of it was the grandfather’s “actual” axe but in spirit is was the very same axe his grandfather had loved.

So I am Mr Pencil’s axe – a rather different person to the one that I was when we married which is understandable really given that we have been married like forever.  But I have really changed and I am lucky enough to see it and appreciate it.

The life I am living now is eons away from the lives I have led previously and I don’t say that in an esoteric, “I have been reincarnated” kind of way I mean simply that the day to day of my life is as completely different from how it was 20 years ago or even 2 years ago.

These lives that I refer to aren’t even the childhood versions of me – it is the adult me who has had her handle chopped off and her blade replaced.  Not just once.

So I am taking this opportunity to write to my old life …just the one before this one

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I know that you come and read my blog from time to time and as I am not sure where else to find you hanging around these days, I though I’d write you a letter. As you do.

You see Old Life, I’ve been dying to tell you what’s been going on although I am sure you wont believe it.  I also want you to know that it got better.  A lot better.  And aside from a few of the lessons that you taught me I don’t miss you a lot.  In fact I don’t think that I miss you at all.

You know I work in the most amazing job don’t you? I get to be creative and I get to write and I work with the most awesome people Every. Single. Day. You remember that girl crush I had on Mia Freedman ? – ha, I get to see her every day and not only do I work with her, but I count her as a good friend.  Bet you never thought that would happen. In fact I can see you screwing up your face in disbelief.

And I laugh at that. In fact I laugh a lot, just in general.

I remember sitting with you and trying to find the perfect job, writing lists of wishes and dreams and pros and cons.  Chasing the very wrong people to try and find validation in work that would never fulfill me.  That ultimately would not validate me.  And I remember you telling  me that I should stick with that job, that it was going to be the only one I could do.

You remember that commitment issue I had and how the thought of having to be somewhere every day would kill me?  I laugh at that too.  In fact until I had to tell you about it, I hadn’t given it any thought. I don’t sit at home so much anymore.

You know how you once tried to make me believe that what we had was as good as it got? That things were infinitely better than the other lives that came before you? You were right – they were way better then they were before, but not nearly as good as they are now.

And I couldn’t be happier

How was your mental health at age 3?

I don’t know a lot about the 2011 budget for Australia, I don’t profess to. But I did listen with interest to their plans for mental health. And frankly, I am baffled by some of it.  Genuinely baffled.  Not in a narky “I hate the budget” kind of way, more in a “please explain this nonsensical allocation of funds” kind of way.

I am not actually across the inner working of the Australia mental health system but I do know someone who needs it to be improved.

In fact I know that all Australians need a better mental health system – a system that can look after the people who suffer from mental illness, those people lost, scared, alone and with no hope of a stable future because there are no long term facilities and care is patchy and under resourced.

I know that the people of Australia need a mental health system that can accommodate their illness, that can ensure there are case workers that have the time and resources to follow through with their patients. I know that we need beds in hospitals in times of crisis.  I know Australia needs a system where there are social workers and support people, and places of safety for people with mental illness to go for care, counselling, medication and understanding.  Company even.

I know that Australia need a mental health system that will support those people that are trying their hardest to support the mentally ill – the families, the support people, the carers.

I also know that early intervention is important. I know that the thousands of homeless people roaming the streets of Sydney may have been saved that fate had they had early intervention and a clear shot at effective medication, counseling and life skills that could help them maintain a job and their place in society.

I don’t know about allocating a huge portion of the budget to mental health to intervention at 3 years of age.
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Think about every single person you know that suffers from some sort of mental illness – be it depression, schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder, anorexia.  Think about those people suffering from anxiety disorders, post-traumatic stress, panic attacks and paranoia. Think about the people suffering from alzheimers and those who suffer psychosis.

And if you had a chance to ask their families or their pre-school teachers what they were like at 3 years of age ? Do you think all these mental illnesses could have been staved off had they had early intervention at age 3? Would these conditions even have shown their frightening path of devastation at 3 years old?

I genuinely don’t get this decision.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3uFUzCkq7E&w=640&h=390]

If you’ve watched that interview and can shed some light – I would love to know.

I just don’t get it

Thank God I have finished school

My son ran the cross country today and I am exhausted.

I rushed to the field to watch him run, I didn’t want to be late (he’s prone to tears of insecurity although why I have no clue – there is really no reason to be insecure when your mother tells you she loves you 190 times a day and when she never ever misses a thing and still lies in bed with you every night even though you are ten – but I think that may be a post for another day)

As I was saying before I let you in on all my super magic mothering skills , I rushed from the office to the park with plenty of time to spare.  I left the city feeling on top of things. I love my job (I think I may have mentioned that once or a hundred times.)  I feel like I am in great place work wise (actually better than I could have dreamed for myself) and I adore the people I work with.

As I pulled up and started to walk over to the other mums who had gathered to watch the kids run my work veneer started to fall off.   I felt all wrong – my jacket was hot, my shoes were too high, my scarf too flouncy,  my pants too high, my top too tight.  I felt a little lost.  I am quite sure it wasn’t the park air – more the air of a hundred mother’s watching their kids and for some reason intimidating the hell out of me.

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It’s a funny thing about school functions even if they are held at the Duck Pond in the park.  They make me feel 12.  They make me feel awkward and anxious and vulnerable.  I forget that it’s my son’s school and not mine.  I forget that I have already made my friends and finished with the school yard shit.  I forget that I have a husband and a fulfilling career and great friends (some of whom even helped me get through the sports carnival today).

God I am glad that I have finished school. I only wish Little Pencil would finish too.

PS Little Pencil came 7th in his race –that briefly cheered me up