A Day by Any Other Name.....

So, this post may be in danger of being a little offensive, and if that ends up being the case please known that wasn't my intention....don't say I didn't warn you!!!!

Today is January 26, also known by the majority of Australians as "Australia Day". It celebrates the day that a british fleet landed on our shores and claimed the land for the British empire, founding the first colony on our soils. It's also known by other, less positive names like "invasion day" especially by the indigenous members of our communities. For them its not a day to celebrate, but rather a day to mourn what they percieve as the theft of their land, culture, and identity. 

I will be the FIRST person to speak up when I feel like people aren't respecting Aboriginal culture, and I've had full on arguments and debates with members of my own family against prejudice, hatred, ignorance and bigotry. I have a very deep respect and admiration for true Aboriginal culture, as I believe it is as rich, and deep as anything we as white Australians have ever come up with.

HOWEVER, while I identify with and understand the reasons why this day may not stand for the same things it does for us, what I DON'T understand is why for the rest of the year we have several days that are very respectfully observed by white Australians in an effort to recognise what happened (NAIDOC week, Sorry Day etc) yet one freaking day out of the year where we want to celebrate who we ARE, not what we've BEEN, is not acceptable. I'm not even saying we need to celebrate it on January 26th - I'd happily see it moved if that would make it better. But the sad thing is, no matter what day we celebrate it there will always be SOMEONE offended by the day because they just want to be offended. 

The reality is, as much as we'd like to believe we're an integrated, modern society there is STILL an us/them mentality and I dont think you can say that white Australia is wholly and soully responsible for this.  Whether you're white, black, blue, purple, pink, yellow, red or chartreuse, if you live in this country you are enjoying a number of benefits that are not afforded other nations. We have a democratic society where, even if you're Aboriginal you are now equally allowed to have a say in. You have freedom to move around, you recieve benefits if you dont have a job that you can spend on whatever you want. You can rock up to a hospital anywhere in the country and receive treatment. You can get married, or not get married, You are allowed to have as many children as you want, you can come and go as you please, you can worship as you like, pray as you like, sing as you like, and you have the right to live in peace. If you dont have housing you can access housing, if you can't afford an education you can access an education, if you can't afford food there's places you can go to. We have a judicial system that will pay for legal representation if you cannot afford it. Your children get protected by the government when you screw them over, you can go to rehab and get off drugs and alcohol. You can be who you like, dress how you like without fear of death or persecution, and there are laws protecting your rights to privacy and safety. We really ARE the lucky country, and we all enjoy this life because this is where we live. 

What happened to Aboriginal people was HORRIBLE. It should never have happened. I get it. But I'm not going to pay the price for it for the rest of my life, because I know that I don't deserve to carry that legacy every day. I believe that we ALL as Australians deserve one day where we can fearlessly acknowledge who we are, what we're about, and be grateful for all the blessings we have given to us by those who have gone before us. The minute we lift our heads and stop navel gazing will be the minute true reconciliation can happen, because no matter how you spin it, if you're hooked on the past you're missing the present and you'll forgo your place in the future, and you're being selfish because you're ignoring all the blessings and benefits you have right here right now. 

As for me, I'll be kicking back with a beer and a sausage roll and celebrating all the ways I am blessed by being here. The other night I even got to kick back in a camping chair with about 10000 other people and watch one of my childhood idols, Lee Kernaghan, rock the house here in my home town - and I get to do that every single year! I'm so incredibly blessed, and its because of this and a million other things that I'm proud to celebrate my country today and every day :) 

Aussie Aussie Aussie!!!! 

Til next time, 

Bully Backlash

So I was watching TV tonight, and something really disgusted me. So much so I'm blogging about it!

Granted, I'm probably a bit biased - there's no denying I'm a "big girl", a "beefy gal", I got "Junk in da trunk", "husky", "chubby", "baby got back", "I got a big butt and I cannot lie", I'm "plus size", " built for comfort not for speed", I got "plenty to hold on to", "I'm the michelin woman" "plushy", "fluffy", "big boned", morbidly obese, overweight - aka, I'm fat.

I know this. I don't need reminding, there's plenty of people in this world who like to remind me daily. This entire universe reminds me every time I look in the mirror. It's not something I like, it's not something I'm proud of, it's not something I flaunt, but its the truth. I, like so many others, just want to be treated like everyone else, but we're not and thats the truth. We're ignored by shop assistants, stared at in restaurants, scruitinised for what we wear, what we eat, how we walk, talk, what we do, what we dont do - and God help us if we need to go to a doctor because according to the doctor every single thing that ails us is inevitably linked to our weight. Forget kids, we're too fat to have them and instead we have to sit by while all our friends are having children. We're the people that you groan about if you have to sit next to us on a plane, train, in a car, or practically anywhere confined. We're the people you whisper about"ooh she should NOT be wearing that". We're the people you figure are weak willed, lazy, slow, stupid and constantly eating oversized greasy meals every day of the week. We dont deserve to breathe, or have fashionable clothing, we are criticised for not exercising yet stared at and laughed at when we go to the gym, we're avoided like being fat is somehow contagious - believe me, I get it - we ALL get it.

So what has made me so mad? Not only do we all have to put up with the above.....now there's TV shows that advocate demeaning, screaming at, abusing and down right BULLYING overweight people for ratings. AND PEOPLE WATCH THIS!!!! I won't mention the programs name, you know who you are. I just watched an ad with a trainer SCREAMING at some bloke saying "YOU'RE 150 KILOS DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!" No mate. the guy is completely deaf and illiterate and has no numeracy skills whatsoever......*sarcastic smile* I found myself yelling back at the tv "yeah and you're a BULLY DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!"

Does it make you feel like a big man screaming and taunting some guy sweating his guts out on a treadmill thats been struggling with his weight?? Does it make you feel powerful? Does it make you feel like your life somehow has meaning because you can abuse people into doing what you want them to do?? I'm sorry if you do feel that way cos believe me, "tough love" is not quite as loving as this world would lead you to believe - it's abuse. Pure and simple.

How do I know this? Because I've had it done to me, over and over and over again. Did it help? Not even one bit. I'm over 50kgs heavier because of the constant abuse, it didn't help me lose weight - it only made me want to exercise and be fit LESS so I could prove the bullies in my life wrong. I wanted to make it clear that I COULD have a productive life and be overweight. I didn't want to lose the weight to please them - I wanted to pack it on to spite the lot of them.

I'm not against being healthy. Quite the opposite. I think eating healthy and exercising is great, and I'm trying to do it more myself. I'm taking positive steps to address my weight issues, and I'm proud of myself for doing it. But you can GUARANTEE that the strength i will need to do so will NOT be coming from some !@# hole screaming at me and making me feel awful about myself.

I'm worthy of living in this world whether I lose the weight or not. Period.

Til next time!

Here comes the Setback....

So, just when I thought the worst was behind me, down I went again. After Thursday's calm came Friday, fraught with confusion and anxiety and topped off by a complete meltdown on Friday afternoon. I became convinced that I was going to lose my job, my house, everything. I seriously felt like I was systematically dismantling the beautiful life I'd constructed for myself, and it made me absolutely hysterical at the thought of losing it all.

Now I know that's not entirely true - yes I had a really bad week, but I can't be "on" all the time....the reality is, I have an illness that needs to be managed. It's not something that can be eradicated, or cured, its something I have to deal with and I'm still learning how to do that. The reality is, in the moment my drastic thinking is incredibly real to me, and when I'm given a "dressing down" over my mistakes rather than encouraged in a constructive way it serves to escalate that drastic thinking even further because I figure well its even WORSE than I thought because this person is getting up me as well - it just stacks up on top of me. I feed on negative stresses and energies from others, and that really makes things worse.

Then yesterday afternoon someone tried to break into our house - I'm grateful they didn't succeed, but we're looking at about $1000 excess on the damage that we'll have to pay for the insurance company to fix the results. As if I needed anything else to worry about! My husband stayed up all night, worried that they'd come back to try and finish the job, and consequently I didn't really get much sleep either. We're pretty spooked, so now instead of saving up for that outdoor area we so desperately want we're now looking at getting security screens on our entire house and getting a lock for our manhole cover. It's so frustrating to know that all that effort we've put into savings has now been pretty much for nothing - we can't even afford for me to get a birthday present we'd planned. It's infuriating that along with getting an injection in my ankle on my birthday, trying to prepare for surgery, dealing with issues at work, anxiety through the roof and waiting for word that my estranged grandfather has passed away I now have to deal with this. I just dont know how much more I can try to keep calm and level headed when I have SO much going on - I feel like I'm overwhelmed and the scariest part of it all is that I feel like this week I did my absolute best considering how messed up I was - and my best was described as !@#$ not just by me but by others. What do you do when your best is not good enough?

The Paintbrush - by Brandy Walker

I keep my paintbrush with me, wherever I may go

In case I need to cover up so the real me doesn't show

I'm so afraid to show you me, afraid of what you'll do

Afraid you'll laugh or say mean things, afraid I might lose you

But if you'll be patient my dear friend, I'll remove the coats real slow

Please understand how much it hurts to let the real me show

Now that my coats are all stripped off I feel naked, bare, and cold

If you still find me pleasing, you're my friend as pure as gold

I need to keep my paintbrush though and hold it in my hand

To have it there by my side for those who might not understand

So please protect me my dear friend and thanks for loving me true

Just let me keep my paintbrush with me until I love me too. 

A Downward Turn...

Over the last several months I've been on a real high - and it's lasted so long I actually started to think that perhaps the problems with anxiety, depression and PTSD were long behind me. Alas, once again I've descended.

Unless you've been entrapped by this invisible prison, its hard to describe how helpless and powerless you can feel at times to stop what is happening. It always starts the same way...a niggling foreboding followed by several events that heighten my stress, then comes a couple of days of uncontrollable water works, panic attacks, outbursts and mood swings, then a period of absolute numbness....almost like my emotions have worn themselves to the point where I just check out completely - like I just cant FEEL any more.

And now, the slow clawing back to genuine smiling, laughter and joy again. And thus the cycle is complete and begins again.

I can hear the multitudes...."Just cheer up already" or even my fellow Christians "just give your mind and emotions over to God - 'we were created for a sound mind' or even worse 'just take capture of everything negative thought and you'll conquer this" OH how I wish it were that easy.

I certainly think there's been some marked improvement over the last year or so in my ability to look at my reactions more objectively and identify when things have gotten a bit irrational. And certainly I don't fall as far when I do start to go down than I used to. Struggling with an illness that no one can see or measure I've experienced such a high degree of judgement, and none more strongly than from Christians. My brothers and sisters in Christ can't accept that perhaps my illness is not intrinsically linked to my faithfulness or to the quality of my relationship with God. Is it possible to be a good Christian and suffer from anxiety and depression? I would argue that it is - just as its possible to be a good Christian and have cancer. People aren't judged because they have a physical illness and yet have a relationship with God. Why is mental illness any different?

Sometimes I think it would in some ways be easier to have a physical illness. People would be sympathetic, bringing me flowers, saying prayers for me and offering to help me when I'm ill. I'd get sick days off work, and it would be completely acceptable for me to need help from others. Plus, if I was physically ill, there's possibly treatment or even a cure depending on what I have. Everything would be so tangible.

But this is not tangible. There's nothing that can be cut out, or operated on, or zapped, or poked or prodded to make me feel better. I take medication everyday but despite this I still descend sometimes. No one can see it, and even worse I make sure they do. That wall has become a permanent fixture on my face, I've built it up brick by brick. I'm a master of disguise, I can hide it beautifully, I can wipe away the tears and plaster on a smile quick as a flash because I've been doing it my whole life. I know there will come a day when the wall will come tumbling down and I'll have to try and figure out how to manage without it.

But for today, I'll keep my mask close by, just in case I need it.

Until next time,