Monday, 8 February 2010


The magnificent thing about life is that you never know what's going to happen. The terrifying thing about life is that you never know what's going to happen.

Truth is, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Does anyone? People appear to have their shit all figured out. The world easily freaks me out. I feel flat and exposed. Mornings continue to be ridiculous. I have never been a morning person. More of a mourning person.

Max went back to school last week, after six weeks of summer holidays. He is strong and tall, thoughtful. The face of a pre-teen and the soul of a poet. Rocco went back to daycare. I put Rocco in daycare at the age of eleven months because I could not cope being his full time carer one second more. He loves daycare, loves running wild with his pack of kids. It does take a village ... even if you need to pay said village.

This morning I did a huge Pump workout, then came home to buttery salty scrambled eggs and two huge slices of chocolate cake. I have Buddha statues and Prayer Flags everywhere, but used bug spray on five hundred ants swarming on a carelessly dropped cube of watermelon. I am a mass of contradictions. My head still wants to kill me. I don't know who I am ... only that I will be the biggest enemy I will ever know. Probably why I need to Know Thyself so much.

I don't know why blogging is so important to me, but it is. I think I've been blogging my entire life. What does that even mean?

The other day in the shower I had a EUREKA moment ..... my anxiety stems from the fact that every single second of every day I have this terrible feeling that I've done something wrong. Do you ever break free of your stupid childhood? Do all the other drivers on the freeway have their shit together like I think they do, or are they struggling too?

I love my sons so much that it hurts my heart. And hearts my hurt.

I wish I knew if my dad had a middle name. I wish he knew me.

You can't plan happiness. It happens, unexpectedly, in the oddest of places. And it bubbles over in your soul. And it's real.

Life is real. Who knew?


  1. It is not possible for me to love you more. No way, no how.

    I constantly feel like I've done something wrong, too. I'm learning to recognize those thoughts but it is damn hard - so deeply ingrained they are invisible much of the time.

  2. I just love you and your contradictions.

    I, too, struggle with old, unspecified shame. Slowly, slowly I am releasing it.


  3. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. I doubt anyone does. Anyone who appears to is probably lying. :)

    I rarely feel like I've done something wrong. But on the few times I have felt's awful. I can't imagine fighting that feeling all the time. I would probably break like an egg.

  4. He didn't have a middle name mate. Any time you need to know something else about him you let me know, I have 3 more years worth of memories than you (how fucked is that sentence!!)

    I SO GET you on the contradictions thing. However, like you told me once, 'Linda you are an amazing Oracle, but you will always shit your pants'.

    Here's to always shitting our pants (literally as well as figuratively) at least we keep life inneresting...

  5. I've found that the people in my life who seem to have it all figured out are the most fucked up. They hide it well.

    Bah...contradictions and feeling like I've done something therapist says I have to learn a new skill set...I'd rather eat a donut.

    Good God I hope breaking free is possible.

  6. I am pretty good at fooling the people in my real life. They all think I am so put together. Ha. I am far from put together...

    The thing I love about the blogging world is that I can put it out there. I don't have to look like I know everything, or I have it all figured out. I LOVE THAT. There's no pressure. (well, unless you worry about whether now everyone thinks you're a nut, like I worry-see? just another indication of my fuckupedness) are not alone! Hugs.

  7. No one has any idea of what's going on really. We're all just wading through, choosing the least murky turns.


  8. Brilliantly written. that fear, anxiety, it is a constant companion. Does it make you feel like you have to confess about every little tiny thing like a five year old? why is that when there are millions who live superficial remorseless lives unaware of the depth of meaning all around us. but you know the depth and you feel it and are aware. that definitely makes one feel exposed. life is beautiful and terrible alike. thank you for writing.

  9. Beautiful post.
    I'm not sure but I'm guessing that most people out there are just as fucked up as we are. They just might be better at hiding it. And I truly hope that someday I'll break free from my childhood. Of course I still need to figure out where to start cutting the strings to it. I'm still looking for the damn scissors.

  10. I just wrote a lame post trying to talk about the terror of trying to figure out who I am at middle age -- but it came out sort of soft and not what I wanted to write at all -- your posts are so honest.

    I too am haunted by my childhood. Always -- its why, I think, that I feel like such a failure -- I try to get my head on straight and breathe deeply...just knowing you are out there makes me feel less alone.

    Someday I'll make it to Australia even if I am an old woman ---



  11. I don't know if we can ever escape our childhoods. I know every time I think I've put mine behind me, it rears up again and takes me by the throat. I'm just starting to resolve myself to dealing with the memories (and lack of memories), but I know it'll be a lifelong struggle to define "me" separately from "what happened to me".

    I love your writing Eden, and I'm so glad you blog.

  12. Self doubt? Never heard of it!

  13. We are all evolving all the time. Sometimes I think I am going in the right direction. Sometimes I credit myself, sometimes my parents. Mostly therapy. :-)

  14. I love you, Eden. Celebrate all the things you are doing right...they are many. You are a beautiful person.


  15. I love this post because you simply let your hand write. You had no idea where this was going to go, but it came from within.

    Eden, I dont know if we can escape our fucked up childhoods.

    I tell my therapist that shit that happened back then really effects me until today. She says "well just imagine what it was like for little maya. hopeless and scared" - and that in itself makes me so sad.
    We can heal through our children. I know we can.

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  17. Everytime I think I have it figured out, something happens to prove to me that I don't. Usually it has to do with my kids or recovery, but it's kind of good. Reminds me not to sit on my meagre laurels.

  18. you are not alone, I am struggling too!!! HUGS

  19. you are not alone, I am struggling too!!! HUGS

  20. Truth indeed.

    We all have our own truth: it whispers to us on the wind, ever calling us, ever seeking us.

    But oh, so often, the voices of those surrounding us drown it out: replacing it with lies about how we have failed, or simply are not good enough to try. We are taught to ignore the truth, and that instead it is better to rely on others for the truth as they see it.

    congratulations on leaving that attitude behind. May you continue to find your own path which makes you happy.

  21. You aren't the only one who struggles with old, unspecified shame. It is so hard to learn to let it all go.

  22. "I had a EUREKA moment ..... my anxiety stems from the fact that every single second of every day I have this terrible feeling that I've done something wrong. Do you ever break free of your stupid childhood?"

    Jesus, I hope so. I struggle with that, too. Struggling with it right now. And talk about contradictions, it makes my head hurt how much this shamed sife of me contradicts the Viking side of me. The side that knows better than to take bullshit from poisoned wells. But then, maybe they are two sides of a coin ... or ... more likely ... the former made the latter.

    Hugs to you, E. I think of you every damn day. Wait with eagerness to hear whatever you have to say. Because it always connects in one way or another.


    D. was here.

  23. No one knows what they're doing. Thank you for putting this out there for people to read. All we can do is try to make happiness and trudge through the shit that life can throw our way. Peace.


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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