Thursday, 16 June 2011
I have had an enormously dreadful week. I've thought about giving up, moving out, breaking down, shutting shop. Life continually hands me Difficult Issues - they pop up out of nowhere BAM!
I ended up exploding with rage and anger, all over my family. They pulled pieces of my flesh and (white!) teeth from their hair and face. They forgave me and accepted my apologies.
I keep having to remember that I got this - I can do this thing called "Life." I can do hard things. And when I live my life with Spirit .... all things are possible.
It's the goddamn motherfucking truth that I always, ALWAYS have to learn the hard way.
At one point, I rang my sister in a fit of hysteria. She calmed me down and soon we were laughing. My sisters and I share the blackest sense of humour ever. Dave told me later .."I heard you on the phone. I can't believe you would say things like that hon!"
I told him that my sisters and I are Vietnam Vets. We have a terrible, shared history. It is both our right and our duty to laugh at the terrible things. "For gods sake hon, our dad gassed himself to death in the car."
The rest of that whole day I was shocked at my own words ringing in my ears. He gassed himself in the car? THAT'S SO AWFUL!
So. It has been a week of a myriad of triggerpoints and dynamics and friends taking advantage and arguments and me learning how to be a "good" stepmother all over again. Except, to a beautiful girl this time. I don't want to fuck it up. It's hard.
I can do hard things.
This morning I woke up with a cry-hangover. I had a meeting with a guy about some writing work. We met in a busy local cafe up here, and I was all fakey-fakester. You know when you must pretend and put on a brave face? It was exhausting and my eyes were le Puff.
Then I had to get the train down to Sydney to pick up a Ford Territory, as part of that blogging competition. It was RIDICULOUS, considering all that's been going on.
But, it was exactly what I needed. A circuit breaker.
Especially the toilet ... on the train.
I can't believe that I went into a car dealership today and they just handed over the keys. Don't they know who I used to be? And when the Ford guy John popped the bonnet to show me something in the engine, I laughed SO HARD. "Oh John, you know I have no idea what any of this is?" And he laughed politely and told me the boring things anyway and my eyes glazed over. I idly realised that they must not have done a criminal record check.
He was lovely. Very straighty-one-eighty, so I pulled my sleeves down so he couldn't see my tattoos. I acted professional and charming. Me - the inspirational arsehole.
I told myself, back when I wrote the original Drive post ... that if I got up to this stage of the competition, I would do something in conjunction with Stewart House. (That post touched on Dave's tricky childhood and him being in Boys Homes - Dave never went to Stewart House, but he always says how great they are.)
The car is a seven-seater, after all. I'll call the people at Stewart House tomorrow. See what we can do. I'm sure we can come up with something. I'll explain about the blog and they'll be all, what's a blog?
Naturally, the first question I asked John at City Ford today was, "So, what happens if I crash it?" He laughed, politely. Said something about excess and blah blah. So boring. Then he said, what's a blog?
John, what you are reading right now is a blog.
What you are seeing right now is a photo I took of you unaware when you were telling me all the boring things:
This next part? Is called a vlog.