We only relocated to Ipswich in May, needing a bigger place to house the ever-growing tribe. When we did so, it was a doozey of a move, but necessary, to ensure everyone had their own space- and no one had to resort to sleeping on the couch anymore!
I never anticipated moving again anytime soon, that's for sure.
And yet, here I am this weekend, packing our extensive library which is now threatening to choke out the hallway. I love packing, and the excitement of change and renewal that comes with a move. I love the unpacking and creating a new home out of the chaos of packing crates. I hate the physical move itself, and the loading and unloading of moving trucks.
Scootah has been working for about 4 months now in Toowoomba, and making the hour long drive twice a day for that long. It's become unfair to expect him to continue with the commute which makes his days unbearably long, and gives him no social life or down-time during the week.
So we have made the decision to leave the _House of the Wayward Perves_ and relocate to Toowoomba for 6 months/a year, to allow Scootah to enjoy a better work/life balance. It was in our plans to relocate to the Gold Coast in late 2010, and we will still aim to that, but the drives have become too much for us both to cope with.
We will be moving in three weekends, on the 21st- notice to leave was strategically planned so that we could still attend Retribution in November without being exhausted from moving. I have not actually found a place in Toowoomba yet, and as I will be in classes all of this coming week, locating a property to rent will be delayed until next weekend at the earliest- but I live living on the edge like that...I had to set a deadline to ensure action- on everyone's part!
I have had a look around, and there is plenty available- we will look for a 3-4 bedroom right in the heart of the city. I'm confident I han make this happen within the deadline.
Our boy is looking for work to come with us, and will stay with friends of his here in the interm, as there is no suitable transport available to him to allow him to live with us while retaining his current job.
So look out, Mountain....we are about to invade!
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Send me an Ark
We have moved, and we are now mostly unpacked in the new place.The internet only just got connected yesterday (Monday), but there seems to be issues with both the internet and the home phone line- the phone line worked when they set it up, but stopped working a couple of hours later and they tell us it might be a week before they can send someone out to look at it.
If you have been seeing any news from Australia/Queensland, you will
have seen the news on the flooding and the declaration of the whole
area of South-East Queensland and Northern New South Wales as a
natural disaster area. The flooding was extensive, as over the course of a week of heavy rains, the two worst day had well over 300 cms of rain each! Our place is on top of a hill, and we suffered no damage whatsoever. Our street was extensively flooded, with sections of road washed away. The street was closed down for a few days so we were stranded- Sean's Mom was here for coffee and got stuck for three days! But for us it was just fun, while for the others it was thousands and thousands of dollars of damage to each household, as many had flooded up to 3-4 feet.
Once the rains stopped, it only took a day for the flood to subside in
out neighbourhood- our place backs onto a river, which was able to
wash away the worst of it once it stopped falling from the sky.
There are large parts of the area still using boats to travel from
house to house though.
Click the link below and then when it opens up, click where it says
"Wild weather" for some photos taken in the last two weeks in my area.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/photos/2009/05/20/2575851.htm
Anyway- I'd best get back to the last of the unpacking. I will email as
appropriate once the phone line is fixed so those who need it can get
the new number- since this is the first time we will have had an actual
phone in years, we will be able to call and talk more often- it gets crazy
expensive to call overseas on our mobile phones.
If you have been seeing any news from Australia/Queensland, you will
have seen the news on the flooding and the declaration of the whole
area of South-East Queensland and Northern New South Wales as a
natural disaster area. The flooding was extensive, as over the course of a week of heavy rains, the two worst day had well over 300 cms of rain each! Our place is on top of a hill, and we suffered no damage whatsoever. Our street was extensively flooded, with sections of road washed away. The street was closed down for a few days so we were stranded- Sean's Mom was here for coffee and got stuck for three days! But for us it was just fun, while for the others it was thousands and thousands of dollars of damage to each household, as many had flooded up to 3-4 feet.
Once the rains stopped, it only took a day for the flood to subside in
out neighbourhood- our place backs onto a river, which was able to
wash away the worst of it once it stopped falling from the sky.
There are large parts of the area still using boats to travel from
house to house though.
Click the link below and then when it opens up, click where it says
"Wild weather" for some photos taken in the last two weeks in my area.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/photos/2009/05/20/2575851.htm
Anyway- I'd best get back to the last of the unpacking. I will email as
appropriate once the phone line is fixed so those who need it can get
the new number- since this is the first time we will have had an actual
phone in years, we will be able to call and talk more often- it gets crazy
expensive to call overseas on our mobile phones.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Little-Miss-Sunshine
Ain't so sunshine-y anymore.
I think I've lost myself somewhere in this past year. Either that or dealing with life and the things that are affecting those I love has simply drained me of lifeforce. I've always been a "glass half full" sort of person- someone who was always able to be patient to wait, because things always get better with time, right? No matter how rough my day, I always went to bed knowing things would be a little better tomorrow.
I cannot remember the last time I went to bed looking forward to a new day. Most nights I don't care whether or not I wake up.
I get out of bed, and some days I can't find the will to shower. Some days I cannot be bothered to brush my hair. Life is too much a bother. I'm too busy un-willingly playing Mommy to everyone around me- because I have to. Because if I didn't, their lives would be worsened. In at least one case, they'd probably decide not to live anymore at all.
I used to be strong. Now I'm just a shell. Empty. I've actually stopped believing that things will improve. They've been so fucked for so long, despite my best efforts to right them, and with future circumstance being what they are, they won't get better anytime soon. And I'm out of energy to care anymore.
This is not a cry for help. It's not a goodbye note. I don't have the energy to top myself, either.
I have been breaking myself into small pieces and packaging them out to people in my life that need help, and accidentally I've given too much. And there are so many people that need my help right now. My niece is here for a few more months, and her mom has just come out of the hospital after major surgery. She's hurting and missing home, and a little fragile. I have a friend and her teen son here because she had a crazy ex who was abusive, so they are here indefinitely licking their wounds. And my husband is shadowed by the depression demon. Husband number two, depression number two. My batting average is just not that great.
All I want is for someone to take care of me. I've been self sufficient almost my entire life. I'm the caregiver. But I think I'm broken. So few people in my life have needed less from me then they have given. Funny to think of it, but Paula was probably the best Daddy I've ever had. One of the few dynamics in my life that never required me to give a mountain of emotions.
So who has the superglue, then? I could use some.
I think I've lost myself somewhere in this past year. Either that or dealing with life and the things that are affecting those I love has simply drained me of lifeforce. I've always been a "glass half full" sort of person- someone who was always able to be patient to wait, because things always get better with time, right? No matter how rough my day, I always went to bed knowing things would be a little better tomorrow.
I cannot remember the last time I went to bed looking forward to a new day. Most nights I don't care whether or not I wake up.
I get out of bed, and some days I can't find the will to shower. Some days I cannot be bothered to brush my hair. Life is too much a bother. I'm too busy un-willingly playing Mommy to everyone around me- because I have to. Because if I didn't, their lives would be worsened. In at least one case, they'd probably decide not to live anymore at all.
I used to be strong. Now I'm just a shell. Empty. I've actually stopped believing that things will improve. They've been so fucked for so long, despite my best efforts to right them, and with future circumstance being what they are, they won't get better anytime soon. And I'm out of energy to care anymore.
This is not a cry for help. It's not a goodbye note. I don't have the energy to top myself, either.
I have been breaking myself into small pieces and packaging them out to people in my life that need help, and accidentally I've given too much. And there are so many people that need my help right now. My niece is here for a few more months, and her mom has just come out of the hospital after major surgery. She's hurting and missing home, and a little fragile. I have a friend and her teen son here because she had a crazy ex who was abusive, so they are here indefinitely licking their wounds. And my husband is shadowed by the depression demon. Husband number two, depression number two. My batting average is just not that great.
All I want is for someone to take care of me. I've been self sufficient almost my entire life. I'm the caregiver. But I think I'm broken. So few people in my life have needed less from me then they have given. Funny to think of it, but Paula was probably the best Daddy I've ever had. One of the few dynamics in my life that never required me to give a mountain of emotions.
So who has the superglue, then? I could use some.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
He's not aggressive- he's just...broken.
My husband's Dr recently changed his depression medication. So on Monday, he hit the big breakdown I have been expecting for months now- maybe closer to a year. And off to the Emergency Department we went.
Hospitals are obviously not a happy place- even if you are not depressed. To their credit, once past the admitting red tape, we only had to wait about 20-30 minutes to see a psychiatrist. The hospital nearest us is in a low-rent area, so the waiting room was full of the usual poverty-striken crowds- a guy being treated for addiction, a teen mother with her gaggle of half-dressed children, and another ranting that no one had given her a voucher for a free taxi home,and so on. I also think that tuning the TV to medical drama soap operas in a waiting room is generally a bad idea. But maybe that's just me. Since we had never been to this hospital before, I first had to go through the process of getting his registered as a new patient.
"Can I help you"?
Me;"Yes- my husband is being treated for depression- he was on Effexor but they have just swapped him to Pristiq, and he's had a breakdown and needs to see a psychiatrist"
"Where is your husband?"
Me; "He's the full grown man man sitting on the floor behind me curled up into a ball crying and sobbing so loud you have to shout at me"
"Well, what's wrong with him?"
Me "He is having a breakdown and needs to see a psychiatrist"
"But what is wrong with him right at this particular moment?"
Me; "He is unable to speak or function in any manner, and he wants to die- now get me a damned psychiatrist"
"Is he aggressive?"
Me; "No, he is not aggressive- he is just... broken. Please help"
After a few more minutes of this, ~I~ wound up getting aggressive, at which point a supervisor come along, took one look at us and directed us to go sit down and she would send a psychiatrist out to collect us shortly.
A while later they discharged him to go home, after a counselling session wherein they decided the best thing for him was to maintain his routine and not disrupt things too much. Which would have been fine, except that on Tuesday, I had to pack him onto a plane to go back to work- at a mine site 4000 km's from here, in the middle of a big fucking dessert with no Dr's on site, only a nurse.And then the fucker forgets to check in with me at night. He called today to tell me he was to tired to talk and fell asleep right away, and to say that he had texted- the texts still have not shown up. He sounds more together. But I won't feel comfortable until he is back in my arms alive and breathing.
I'm so scared. I wish i could fix him. Then again, I tried to fix my first husband too and could not help- he got better only after we were no longer together. Go figure, huh? I'm one of the strongest and most cheerful people I know, and yet, I keep making my men depressed.
And on to other news';
We've listed our home, finally. it goes to auction on May 1st- this is a good thing. it's too small, it costs too much, and it keeps us financially tied to his father, from whom we wish to distance ourselves. So now I have 10 days to make the place view-able. Which will entail renting a storage unit, boxing up and storing everything that is not absolutely essential, clean the place top to bottom, and do a few handyman bits around the place (Re-install a cupboard, paint, etc).
Last weekend we drove to a darling friend of our's property, 5 miles into the outback, and left at her place our two large friendly-to-the-point-of -possibly-being-irritating dogs. The place absolutely echoes now in their absence.
And with all this stuff ahead of me to do, today it is raining so hard that I have decided the best thing for me is to curl up in bed with a book.
Hospitals are obviously not a happy place- even if you are not depressed. To their credit, once past the admitting red tape, we only had to wait about 20-30 minutes to see a psychiatrist. The hospital nearest us is in a low-rent area, so the waiting room was full of the usual poverty-striken crowds- a guy being treated for addiction, a teen mother with her gaggle of half-dressed children, and another ranting that no one had given her a voucher for a free taxi home,and so on. I also think that tuning the TV to medical drama soap operas in a waiting room is generally a bad idea. But maybe that's just me. Since we had never been to this hospital before, I first had to go through the process of getting his registered as a new patient.
"Can I help you"?
Me;"Yes- my husband is being treated for depression- he was on Effexor but they have just swapped him to Pristiq, and he's had a breakdown and needs to see a psychiatrist"
"Where is your husband?"
Me; "He's the full grown man man sitting on the floor behind me curled up into a ball crying and sobbing so loud you have to shout at me"
"Well, what's wrong with him?"
Me "He is having a breakdown and needs to see a psychiatrist"
"But what is wrong with him right at this particular moment?"
Me; "He is unable to speak or function in any manner, and he wants to die- now get me a damned psychiatrist"
"Is he aggressive?"
Me; "No, he is not aggressive- he is just... broken. Please help"
After a few more minutes of this, ~I~ wound up getting aggressive, at which point a supervisor come along, took one look at us and directed us to go sit down and she would send a psychiatrist out to collect us shortly.
A while later they discharged him to go home, after a counselling session wherein they decided the best thing for him was to maintain his routine and not disrupt things too much. Which would have been fine, except that on Tuesday, I had to pack him onto a plane to go back to work- at a mine site 4000 km's from here, in the middle of a big fucking dessert with no Dr's on site, only a nurse.And then the fucker forgets to check in with me at night. He called today to tell me he was to tired to talk and fell asleep right away, and to say that he had texted- the texts still have not shown up. He sounds more together. But I won't feel comfortable until he is back in my arms alive and breathing.
I'm so scared. I wish i could fix him. Then again, I tried to fix my first husband too and could not help- he got better only after we were no longer together. Go figure, huh? I'm one of the strongest and most cheerful people I know, and yet, I keep making my men depressed.
And on to other news';
We've listed our home, finally. it goes to auction on May 1st- this is a good thing. it's too small, it costs too much, and it keeps us financially tied to his father, from whom we wish to distance ourselves. So now I have 10 days to make the place view-able. Which will entail renting a storage unit, boxing up and storing everything that is not absolutely essential, clean the place top to bottom, and do a few handyman bits around the place (Re-install a cupboard, paint, etc).
Last weekend we drove to a darling friend of our's property, 5 miles into the outback, and left at her place our two large friendly-to-the-point-of -possibly-being-irritating dogs. The place absolutely echoes now in their absence.
And with all this stuff ahead of me to do, today it is raining so hard that I have decided the best thing for me is to curl up in bed with a book.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)