Friday, 4 January 2019

A Couple of Days Into New Year Already

Well hey now so I haven't been arrested this year at a ALL! No sirree. No shitfights, *no* mental institution intakes (both voluntary or scheduled) ... haven't bought something fashiony online that I know I will look fantastic in (but just never, ever does.) Haven't needed to scrub the toilets once not even after a new years eve party with the really spicy meatballs.

Haven't yelled at my kids to get off Fortnight ... (yet). New Years Day is the day where you can write resolutions for the upcoming year with the best of intentions that are paved with Oreo COOKIES.a

Tuesday, 1 January 2019

I Am The One Who Knocks. (I Mean Cries ... I Am The One Who Cries.)

I'n my lifetime I've cried an entire ocean so deeply that mapmakers need to change their maps to add a new ocean called "Ocean of Eden's Tears." Hey what's the difference between an ocean and a sea? Sounds like a joke but it's not .. I really don't know.

Reminds me of that time I was on a boat with my friend Lou after an intensive World Vision trip in Uganda .. we took time out to visit a safari place afterwards and on this boat I asked "So what's this lake called?" And Lou kind of slowly answered because she thought I might be joking. "Umm, it's the River Nile?" and I was all NO FRICKING WAY I THOUGHT THE RIVER NILE WAS IN EGYPT. Lou said the River Nile started in Egypt (I think I can't remember) ... I said something about how we were in Africa so how could the Nile be in Africa and when Lou said that Egypt was a part of Africa I nearly fell off the boat.

Egypt is part of Africa. Wow. I love admitting how dumb I am because it's funny to be so dumb and so smart at the same time. There's no such thing as a stupid question like once I was with my Uncle Stevie at Bakers Delight and we asked for some BAP rolls and then I said to the lady "What does BAP stand for?" And she said in all of her years of working there she'd never been asked that question. And she didn't know what BAP rolls stood for but the next time I came in to ask her again because she was curious now too.

Curiosity is underrated.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life but every day is the first day of the rest of your life. Happy new year, every body. Every Soul. It's always "Happy" new year. Not shit new year or half-hearted new year or manageable new year or ok new year .. it's always happy. One of my life lessons to date is that we are not guaranteed happiness. It's important to feel all the other emotions too. When my son Max was four years old I bought him a book on feelings and as I read it to him I learnt it at the same time as he did. In parenting him, I parented me. Max has had a rough go with a mother like me but the upside is ... he thinks deeply. And differently. He is so intelligent it blows me away.

As for the past christmas? Here's a photo that speaks volumes:


My two sisters and I. I asked their permission to post it and they said yes and I promised I wouldn't make grand statements about it. It would be very hard to have a sister like me. I'm so grateful for grace ... and I am so, so happy that my mum had her remaining children together on Christmas Day for the first time since ... since our brother died.

I love my sisters in a Viking way and I would kill for them. They are blood. They've known me my whole life. Often when a family member dies, existing and previous fractures are brought to the surface and the family implodes sometimes for the rest of their lives.

That's not going to happen, now. The word "gratitude" doesn't even cover it. Right in the Saint Nick of time this Christmas proved good, and gentle, and accepting. I could not have endured another Christmas in the fetal position on my couch alone ... the Universe must've known that. Our grandparents long gone must have known that too. I believe our loved ones who have passed help us through. I really do.

So. Here we are, my beautiful people. I wish we could all meet and have a day together ... oh that's right, we are! I need to meet you and maybe you'd like to meet me too. Is it crazy I'm such a hermit that I'll just give out my home address and see who shows up? BYOD ...Bring Your Own Doona. I want to see who helped me. I'd like to meet the people who (embarrassingly) helped me pay my rent and buy food for my boys and paid my gas bill and helped me with my christmas presents.

How could I POSSIBLY pay that back? I've searched inside myself so hard about how you opened your hearts to me a few months back and I honestly am unsure why. I felt so unworthy and I just didn't understand?

Maybe it's because you've read me so much you know me inside out because my honesty here is real. I'm real. I stay on the internet for a reason, I open myself up for a reason, I don't want you to feel alone for a reason, I am no saint but I'm also not a bathroom renovation blogger from Utah who's Mormon with a kajillion followers and children with immaculate everything. (Not bagging those people out, I just am not one. At all.)

Just want you to know I was on a horrific darkest path of my life last year pretty much ever and you saved me. I will tell you about it sometime I promise it's just that I have sons who I need to tell first. I owe them that. And hey guess what- all the pain of them being held for ransom, all the wailing, all the thinking that maybe I should move away to spare them even more pain?

It's all gone. Because I persevered. Because I forgot I am Eden Fucking Riley and when I got to the depth of the bottom quite recently I thought ... well. So what do I do now?

The only thing I now what to do, the only thing I taught myself, the only thing I do better than most people I know (I'm allowed to write that, my self-esteem is at an all-time low but I'm working on it.)

.... I rise up. Again. And again, and again, and again. My strength is proportionate to my pain I mean fuck me dead I woke up this morning weeping. Loudly. Again. Because I was having a dream that I pretty much had my shit together and I was leading these people and then bam I woke up and remembered that my lease has not been renewed and I love this house but I gotta go and I've started packing for a place I don't know where I will live and why is life so bullshit?

It's not bullshit at all. My glass may be half full or half empty but either way there's water in it. I have a lot more than people in this hard fallen world have.

Stay with me, you there. We're in it together, remember? See you tomorrow.

xxxxx

If you ever like/enjoy/resonate with/cry at my writing ... my Paypal account is: edenriley@gmail.com

Thank you doesn't cover it. One day I won't have to put my Paypal details there. That day will be such a relief of joy.

PS I still don't know what a BAP roll is.


Friday, 7 December 2018

"It's Often the Last Key in the Bunch That Opens the Lock."

Hey you guys I'm really sorry it's just I've been really, really scared. Fear eats us from the inside and I'm not just tired but soultired and sweaty from going from one place to another (like, the living room to the bathroom.) Maybe the sweaty is from menopause I'm not sure.

One thing's for sure is that I owe you my words and my worlds and my swirls but - I can't write what's happening until it's over. (It's not over, for the everlasting gobstopper of hell.)

Hey you know how I was brought up strict Catholic like eating the jesus wafers and everything .. well yesterday morning I was so abjectly terrified. (ABJECT - such a dramatic word!!) I was near-hyperventilating because I couldn't pray. It's hard to explain ... at the risk of sounding entirely nutsack crazy (TOO LATE) ... I felt like I was being prevented from praying properly? Or my prayer wasn't strong enough? Or have I prayed too stupidly that I'm pushed to the back of the prayer queue I don't know. I know that prayer is powerful. I also know that prayer is especially powerful when one is strong, and righteous. I'm currently a meek sheep who wouldn't say boo to a goose. I've also been facing lengthy hospitalisation for a few errant brain malfunctions lately but finally what I've been saying for years is true: they ran out of label makers for all of my labels. (The latest being Borderline Personality Disorder and I really, really didn't want that one UGH!)

FUCK. Why can't I just BE BETTER and be done with it and then talk about it freely in public discourse. You know - all that suicide awareness bullshit. I could tag my coattails onto that lucrative business. Government grants for mental health initiatives are BOOMING! I'll talk about it once I've come good! I'd be onstage with shiny sleek hair, my words punctuated by meaningful gestures, tissues at the ready. Finally able to walk in stilettos! A little like how Biggest Loser Trainer Michelle Bridges is an Ambassador for the Black Dog Institute ... one day last year she was going to a fancy black tie dinner event to promote the cause. She instagrammed a photo of herself with the caption "I just LOVE having conversations about mental health!" Then in her post she tagged the boutiques and brands of the beautiful dress and shoes and jewellery and makeup she was wearing. Feeling particularly trollish I commented on her pic with "Hi Michelle, you look really stunning. I was just wondering what kinds of conversations you love having about mental health? I'd be really interested. Unfortunately my brother died from suicide, I'd really love for these dreadful Aussie suicide statistics to improve."

I never got a response from Michelle. In another magazine she was talking about the huge benefits of exercise when you're feeling depressed, how you just "get up and do it!" I had to turn my phone off lest I unabashedly unleashed on her account.

Ok where was I? I didn't know I was going to write about that, best laid plans, etc. Hey - can I just say I feel better already, just writing to you? I really do feel less alone, like we're all in this together. Which we are. And I feel fiercely protective of you, reading this. You are the readers, which makes me the readee? I don't know. I just adore you people and I really am holding a get-together in the shiny new year, before we've made any fuckups yet. I'm thinking the location will be on the rug on my living room floor SURELY it can fit us all on? It's magic.

Oh crap hang on I almost forgot to finish my story. I had to call a taxi yesterday to take me to the mechanics to pick my car up .. for the past two weeks the front passenger rear mirror was just all broken and hanging from its cord. Finally it was fixed yesterday (I HATE being female in these situations #markup)

So grateful to be able to afford getting my mirror fixed ... especially grateful I could get a cab to take me there so I could pick up my son from school. I paid the cabbie then he looks embarrassed but said it anyway. "Eden - wow, great name - so Eden sometimes I pray with my customers. Do you mind if we have a quick prayer together?" I said of course, inwardly I was gobsmacked. The cabbie's name is Grahame and his prayer was so good and short and uncomfortable but WAY COOL. We said amen at the same time.

When I got out of the cab we said our goodbyes ... and now I know how to pray again. And this is how the world works if you are brave to get messily honest enough. People crop up right when you need them. Things happen at the EXACT right time. You get a funny tingly feeling. Life shouldn't be centred around not feeling fear but what we can do in spite of it. Despite it.

AMEN!!!

(Sorry I can't remember why I called this post why I did but I kind of like it? I'll be back real soon. Nite you guys xxxxx)


Tuesday, 27 November 2018

You Never Know.



Somebody stuck a "BROKE" sticker on this Royal typewriter and put it up for sale for four dollars.

I took it home like a lost puppy. She was ceremoniously placed on my sideboard - that's not my sideboard in the photo that's the blanket box in the laundry that I emergencially dumped her on after I dropped her on my foot I KNEW words were heavy.

By the way just like boats, typewriters are female. (I just made that up but it seems true don't you think?)

It's not broke it's just not working at the moment .. imagine what's already been typed on it ever, in its lifetime? Newspaper articles by a top reporter. Dictation by an angry silent secretary dreaming of bigger things. Earnest writings by Ernest himself .. you never know! Rejection letters by publishing houses. Maybe nothing was ever typed on her at all, she just sat on the desk of a Very Distinctive Person who used it as a talking piece or just to look good. Probably the latter.

LETTERS oh my what if beautiful dreamy descriptive love letters were typed on this very Royal by maybe even a Royal. You never know. Imagine all the letters that have been typed on this beauty ... letters that still exist to this day, tucked inside old envelopes in the back of an old dresser that will eventually be thrown away by some, kept as priceless mementos by us more sentimental ones.

I've been thinking lately about how it's not other peoples duty to stay in connection with broken people .. especially the very very broken and lost and hurt and sad. It's hard work. Maybe people cut themselves off because it's too taxing or draining for them .. maybe that's ok and it's up to us broken to "find our own tribe" or some such shit. It must feel warm to be in a tribe I want to be in a tribe so what's that saying - build it yourself? I'll try. Broken people trying is the biggest trying of all especially when we pull it off and think to ourselves ha, who's broken now?

Before I start a tribe I want to get this typewriter fixed back to her original glory, considering all she's been through. What if her keys are keys to words not written yet?

GOD I hope I get her fixed. I'm a bit wobbly all over the place lately so I probably just need to believe in the typewriter if I can't believe in myself enough. If typewriters think then she'd be having a field day. "Oh hello what do we have here? A broken human pfffft .. no such thing!" Imagine how relieved she felt when I pulled her stickers off.

What of the fact that maybe her greatest works haven't been written yet?

Wow. You never know.




Sunday, 25 November 2018

One Fine Day.


Today we went to Echo Point in Katoomba with about a thousand tourists. My photos are very blurry lately .. but we're not. We're really clear. I took him to probably my favourite tree in the world .. it just holds on no matter what.



I walked until my hips weren't achy anymore. He ran, hid, hopped, said he needed sunglasses, got thirsty, and laughed a lot. We went with one of his mates who had a sleepover last night .. this morning they woke at 6am. And they were LOUD. And having the best time. Tomorrow is changeover days .. we don't like changeover days. I worry that going back and forth between two houses every second week is damaging him. I worry too much but I swear this is true: it's easier when they are babies. You have more control. You always know where they are. They don't know what the internet is. It's hard work but as they approach adulthood holy hell you're in for a bumpy ride. Make sure your arms and legs stay inside the carriage at all times.


I'll be his pillow. I'll be whatever he needs me to be. Same with Max. With six years between them the age difference is really obvious but as they grow up together I think they'll be best mates. They've been through a hell of a lot together. Siblings are special like that .. they have the unique bond of growing up together. My two have had to sometimes be soldiers and just push through when it got too hard. Neither have middle names but if they did they'd both have the same one: grit.


Everything we do starts with that first step. Sometimes we're lucky enough to have some do-over steps and get to start afresh in the morning. I wasn't anxious or jumpy or scared or anything yucky today! At all! I credit you guys. And my two guys who both grew in my BELLY like that is INSANE when you think about it! Our wombs are time-travelling portals, delivering humans from one dimension to the next.

I think weird.

For the two hours we were there Rocco BEGGED me to climb over the fence so he could walk on the "proper side." Oh my boys are shining lights. Doesn't matter where we live, we're each others home.

I never thought I could have children. I can't imagine my life without them. I'm raising two thoughtful, kind, empathetic, incredibly capable males who respect themselves, other people, their possessions. Most of all - women. I'm a loud-mouth opinionated dangerous chick who has seen and done some STUFF! #stillhere #proudmama

This wasn't the post I expected to write today but it wasn't the day I expected to have today. It ended in a whopper roast lamb stuffed with garlic cloves slow-cooked in the oven. It's demolished. Rocco asked for the chicken bone. Max was HANGRY while carving it. (Rocco has gone one step further than angry. He calls it "sangry" ... sad because he's angry and hungry.)

My sons make up words .. I started teaching them young that they're allowed to do much more than they get told they can. It's hard for them to have me as their mum, I know that. I also know they're strong enough to handle it.

Love you my Max and Rocco - hey never forget that love is real. It's REAL.


Saturday, 24 November 2018

A Bad Case Of Toska

To get straight to it:
 I have never received so much hate emails, bile and backlash in my life. The shame I feel is so overwhelming I thought seriously about deleting this whole site and all of my social media accounts.

I asked for some help and I received help - enough to be months ahead in my rent. My gas didn't get cut off. I bought steaks. Some people out there haven't agreed with what I did, how I went about it and so I just froze. More about that in a little bit in the meantime I've had a medication change to deal with ... it's going great! Here's a selfie:


It's not going great at all. A professor, two psychiatrists, my counsellor, the hospital visit I had last week. I haven't been able to do things. I took my frustrations out on a case worker and I made one of the doctors at the hospital cry why? Because I let it all out and loose and wept like REALLY wept in his office and I don't know him very well but what a man .. to be affected by a patients pain like that. Except in those fifteen minutes I wasn't just another patient I was a fellow human being in so much pain I could hardly talk. At first I thought he kept touching his nose but no, he was wiping his eyes.

I talk with strangers much better than I talk with people I know.


I'm not grateful for my pain but I'd like to be. And there's SO MANY people going through worse stuff than I am!


This post is quote-heavy because I've still lost my words they must have fell out of my pocket while I was trying to explain to people that I am who I say I am but that made them more angry until today I finally realised nobody can hate me more than me and I really do know who I am. And through all that muck I was emailed by a 16 year old girl who begged me to write again so here I am, Elsie. Here I am.

I've been writing I just haven't been publishing. Never have I felt such doubt about my writing but I'm going to push past that even though I feel like a sack of shit. It appears ten years of writing online has meant a lot to a lot of people so I'm pushing past it like Eminem continues to. Em and I were born in the same year SNAP and twinning and how can I manage to meet him next February?

See that- next February. It' important to have something to look forward to in life and it doesn't have to be Eminem it can be chocolate brownie ice cream.


I want this to be true. I want my greatest life's work to be in front of me. I'm scared and sad and full of self doubt and my brain got diagnosed with TWO MORE disorders for the love!!! How much can a koala bear? Both my sons are here with me and have been for some time and all that goes around in my head is how I've fucked them up. I should have played with them more, listened to them more, not taken them for granted. I should have been more. To the people who gave to me ... tracking some of you down is proving tricky but I'll get there. You saved me. I'll tell you about it one time.

To the people who hate me: blow me. I forgot who I was for a while. Fuck you, fuck off, you're not invited to the get-together I'm planning in the new year for people with wonky brains, personality disorders, suicidal tendencies and all-round general mental malaise.

To the people who love me and understand me and have given me patience and grace: you saved me.

I'll write my wrongs from here on in. Tomorrows post is sorted and the day after that and the day after that. Please don't give up on me - I'm sorry. I love you and hear you and need you.

If I just lay here would you lie with me and just forget the world? I hope so, readers and dreamers and lovers. All of us confused fucked awesome sad hopeful ones.




Tuesday, 13 November 2018

If All The Lonely People Came Together Then We Wouldn't Be Lonely Anymore Don't You Think?

Ever realised how SO uncool to admit how lonely you are? I'm lonely! And yes I'm embarrassed at being lonely but it's the truth.

If I ever ask someone if they get lonely they say no .. why is that? Is it such an embarrassment? I get lonely as HELL .. especially at night when I want to just, watch tv or netflix with somebody. At night time in bed I'd just like to spoon to make me feel .. connected or loved or something. I'm not talking one iota about sex, just the thing of someone shouting out "do you want parmesan on your spaghetti" during the ad of some dumb show that does nothing to improve anyones minds. Not every moment has to be all spiritual and shit, or Einsteiny. Just the act of doing mindless stuff with another person instead of by yourself ... helps the sound of the world crying.

I feast on meaningful stuff too, yesterday my mum reminded me it was six years ago exactly that I flew to India for World Vision  (I truly need to get my comment system back up and working .. I only paused it because of negative and mean comments which I could not care less about anymore, ever.)



This was meeting our family's sponsor child, Rashni. She was three here, back in 2012 - now she's ten. Exactly the same as Rocco - they were born three days apart and I purposely chose a girl the same age as him, watching his face as he read her progress report last week was just .. humbling. He had so many questions and he really wants to meet her too.


This pic was taken back in 2014 - after my brother died but before everything in my family's life imploded oh my god look at my sons. Look at them #truelove


Me and Rocco the other night after the HUGE house inspection. Which the owner attended. Roc (otherwise known as vacuumer of the century) has weaned himself off Fortnite and I'm so proud. We've gone back to playing Dumb Ways to Die together on my phone at bedtime, thing is I get really, really offended when he laughs at my poor playing skills. So then he's trying extra-hard not to laugh. It's so hard for me to not laugh at him trying not to laugh.


I'M TRYING SO HARD. ALL THIS TIME AND I DIDN'T GIVE UP! I *know* I have work to do and I pray, a lot. I don't pray for help - I pray for the strength to be given to me for what I need to do. Despite being brought up Catholic I still believe in truth and good, love and BRIGHT LIGHT. Laugh at the devil and he shall flee. Ha.


Ok I don't know WHY my photos have suddenly gone all blurry on here lately but this is me today.  Hopefully I look ok. I hope I continually believe I'll get through (because of you, oh so grateful .. S0 grateful I'm not sure you understand. Yes I will email you if I haven't already. You changed my life.)

I guess that's it for now, beautiful people. I did say a post a day but going through a medication change for the first time in a LONG TIME does not make a great blog post every single day OR maybe it does, hahahaha!!!! (You'd call the men in white coats immediately and fuck that - I'll get through this. I been through worse. I been through better. Why does life seem easier for others there's no answer Eden stop asking that question.)

In conclusion if you want to go out on a date or something email me edenriley@gmail.com KIDDING, OBVIOUSLY!!! Heh.

No come on we've all got this, living in a hard scary world run by dictators. I applaud you for still being here! And guess what we don't even have to be lonely anymore ....  ready?





 Goodnight beautiful people. I love you. And I mean it. xxxx


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