All posts in Perth to Sydney

Whew.

by admin on August 3, 2012 in , , with No comments

It has been so long since I have blogged… this started as a Facebook status and I thought “hey… why not blog it and then people will think I am totally not neglecting my blog… suckas! ha ha ha”.

I am now almost 4.5 months into making the best and most liberating (and yes, terrifying) decision of my life. I am not generally adverse to making those kinds of risky decisions – I mean – I generally have a pretty adventurous disposition – but nothing has really paled to the decision to leave Perth to live in Sydney.

“Big deal”, is what most people would say… however… the decision to be further away from your children is one that is not easy. Most people just don’t understand, and some even go so far as to openly judge me for it. But, I love my children. I didn’t do it lightly. And… thus far, I think I am making it work.

When faced with the difficult choice between one piece of your heart (my career) over another (my children), there will always be doubt. And people will always have an opinion. And believe me, there is not a day that goes by that I don’t scrutinise that choice.

But as I sit here, after a week filled with some amazing developments for the business, and sharing it with someone… incredible… and with the once-tense relationship with my ex husband turning around into a positive co-parenting relationship, I realise that sometimes… you just have to go with your gut, even if everyone else thinks you are making a mistake.

On a day to day basis, I try to forget/suppress how much I miss the kids. I keep myself busy and fill it with distractions. We FaceTime as much as possible, and I try really hard to make it work.

I manage to forget the pain, for the most part, until I have a ticket booked to see them, and start preparing to have Moo again. We do month-on-month off with him, because he is not yet at school. And when my month comes around… I get so excited that I am reminded how much I miss my babies.

Missing them is such a normal part of my day and I am so busy I don’t give myself time to think about it…. that when the anticipation and excitement kicks in… I realise…”wow… that REALLY hurts”. And yeah, when I am exhausted or have a few glasses of wine… I get sad. I mean… who wouldn’t?

But, 4.5 months in and I realise, that Sydney is my home. I love it here. I made the right choice. Yes, it’s difficult. And there are aspects that do provide me with some stress and incertainty. But, nothing in life is certain (as the breakdown of our marriage proves), and… I am simply doing my best. I am finally starting to rebuild my life after an awful 3 years… and things are starting to work out. Sure, my kids may have a different view, and I am prepared for that (and would never blame them), but… I am trying to make it work.

And, my ex is coming around in a way I never expected him to, being more flexible with the kids and visits… and as money improves, hopefully it won’t even be an issue.

As I reflect on the craziness of the last 6 months, it hits me that, despite the odds, I reckon we can actually make this work. Against incredible odds, I reckon we can. And if there is anything that you can get out of this… it’s that you should follow your gut. Trust it. Make difficult choices as necessary, but follow your gut.

Whereby she doth appear to be off her rocker.

by admin on April 15, 2012 in , , , with No comments

Dear Grandma Chris,

It is hard to believe that a year has passed since I first decided to write you a letter on my birthday. It seems a little bit, well, nuts, to write to someone who doesn’t exist anymore. But because you were the only person who ever consistently remembered (or cared about) my birthday, and this week being forever associated with the beginning of the end for you…Oh, and the divorce being final in 2 weeks too … it is inevitable that I will struggle emotionally.

And boy, am I struggling.

So, even though I am sure the fact that I am writing to a ghost is kind of crazy, I don’t care. Because it’s the only way I can really process it all – to talk to you as if you are here.

For the sake of accuracy, we probably wouldn’t be having a deep and meaningful conversation. I’d probably be refusing your offer of food for the 8th time (Seriously, no, I just ate and am not hungry… no, I don’t want you to cook me a meal. And no, that is not code for “I just want cake”. Or biscuits. Or lasagna. I am just not hungry!)

I’d also probably try to explain to you that the political rhetoric you heard on talkback radio was more complex than it seems, and watch you rant about something that you had clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick about, with me trying hard not to laugh.

Because you and I both know that if I dared to smirk at you, even affectionately, I’d be in big trouble. I’d be yelled at, held responsible for every other member of my family and everything else they had ever done… and… well… yeah.

Don’t laugh at Grandma when she’s been watching Today Tonight, because she may tell you to fuck off and change her phone number.

Ah, the eggshells.

Right now, I kind of miss them. Because I get it now. You just held me to a different standard to the others: you cared what I thought of you. And it hurt you when you thought I was judging you. I wasn’t. You’re just piss funny when you’re angry.

It is only as I grow up and experience the complexities of adult life, relationships, love, decisions… and make my own complex decisions (and mistakes), that I have started to realise: love is not as simple as I thought.

Now I am the one who needs to be talked down from my own simplistic ideas about what it means. Because not only can people hurt you and love you at the same time, sometimes they hurt you because they love you.

Heh, the irony. I’m the one who got the wrong end of the stick this time and bought into rhetoric.

I recently made the decision to leave the kids in Perth and move to Sydney. The plan is to visit frequently and bring Angus back on alternate months (and the older 2 for school holidays), but because that is dependent on a steady flow of WA work (which is proving harder than we thought it would be)… it has been really tough.

Every day, I hope that I made the right decision.

You always appear in a dream to me, with the answer to a dilemma. If I need to find a solution, or a direction, or make a decision (I know it’s not really you – it’s just a representation of my subconscious trying to communicate important things I need to stop and listen to…), you are there to make me listen… and you told me to pursue this.

I hope you’re right.

Last year, I was at a point where I was actively dating, getting “the marriage” out of my system, and had my fair share of hurt. Well, needless to say, I continue to be baffled about men and this year, I am going to just… wash over that issue completely and just say that I understand the complexities of love. And that is all I am going to say on that subject…

Anyway, so, it’s my 33rd birthday. I know 33 is not old, but to be honest I feel kind of old and tired… mostly because I am not too good when I feel like I am in flux, because of my anxiety issues. I can’t help but feel like… I am back where I was at 16. And at least, back then, I had you to fall back on. Now, I am on my own, in a new place. It is terrifying. It is stressful. And I frequently struggle with the overwhelming feelings of failure that go with everything that has happened.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there were times in the last few months where I have, quite seriously, and quite clinically, considered ending it. Don’t worry, I won’t. Because fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you look at it…) I am also stubborn. And proud. And would never, ever, do that to my children. So, I am stuck here, having to fight.

Damn.

Looks like there’s a bit more of you in me than I care to admit. You know, having no choice but to… just keep swimming. Let the shit roll over me and to just keep moving forward and trying to see the positives and the lessons in everything. And I will. And like the grief that I felt would never end when you died, it will get easier. I just have to put one foot in front of the other.

Wouldn’t hurt to feel loved for a bit, though, even if it was by being stuffed with food and told off for smirking.

I miss you. I love you. And I hope that next year, things are a little better.

High five St Peter for me,

Téa

Well you can scratch that one off the bucket list…

by admin on March 18, 2012 in , with 3 Comments

The border.

So, I kind of managed the drive across the Nullarbor! Made it to Ceduna without any hassles. I am actually surprised, but it’s weird, that now I have hit the other side… and am free to enjoy a couple of days… that the emotions kick in and I realise that I have left WA. I actually did it. Wow.

I drove across the Nullarbor, alone. I didn’t break down, I didn’t get serial killed… and in some small part, I managed to distract myself with the “big  drive” and everything till the SA border, so as not to have to think about what I am actually committing to doing here.

Fuck, I LEFT Western Australia. After 15 years of talking about it, I have actually done it. For a maybe.

While I ponder that for longer than I should, I suddenly realise that it’s a hell of a drive back if I chicken out now.

So, like the lovely psychologically healthy person I am, I’ll just distract myself again and tell you about the trip.

I left Madura at about 7am, after a pretty average sleep, what with keeping one eye & ear open for mice eating my eyeballs. I made Ceduna my goal, planned to pace myself, take in the sights, take photos… and I did. To an extent.

The outback is… amazing. I don’t know why people say there is nothing to see – it really does have some incredible beauty if you look for it. Going from brown, to green, to red… to glimpses of cliffs on the Bight to the most beautiful red & ash-coloured trees I have ever seen (and need to be seen with eyes, not a lens, to be fully appreciated!). And that’s the thing. It really is something that you need to see. Experience. Take in all the colour and the beauty and the vastness that a lens just can’t capture. It really is… epic.

So yes, I got some pretty great shots. But honestly? I actually really, really like (and prefer) the driving part. There is something incredibly Zen about hitting the open road, alone with your (in my case swirling and complex) thoughts and emotions… that each time I hit somewhere, I really only stopped for half an hour, to stretch my legs, go “aw pretty”, take a picture… and then… kept moving.

I guess I learned something about myself, which is that I relax more when I am moving forward. Not too good at the sitting still, me. So a note to anyone planning holidays with me: you better be planning to take me exploring or walking up a mountain…

Anyway, yesterday, I finished the leg between Madura, Ceduna and landed in Smoky Bay with the intention of spending some quality time there.

Until I was told there was no accommodation.

See, apparently all the oldies like to fill up all the caravan parks and accommodation in March & April, creating a grey peak tourist season outside of the school holidays. I did not know or plan for this… I assumed that because school holidays was over, that it wasn’t a problem.

But apparently it’s peak season, so without paying over $150 a night for a room (which I can’t afford), I am fucked.

The guy at Smoky Bay was really nice and apologetic… and laughed at my joke that I should camp outside in case we get a “casual caravan park vacancy”… so … I wasn’t annoyed. And, unperturbed (given that this is an adventure after all and I know I am a control freak who really needs to learn to just roll with things…) I continue to Streaky Bay, where I was again informed there was “no room at the Inn”.

Same problem.

It was at this point I decided that I was not paying $30 for an unpowered campsite (my only option other than $150+ a night hotel rooms). I stopped at the Streaky Bay bar, where everyone was just a little weird and looked at me funny and made me feel generally uncomfortable. Or maybe I was just about to meltdown… because I love the feeling of having no control. Yeah, I am totally in my element there.

It was at this point it really started to hit me what I was doing. I was half way between either home, with nowhere to stay because everything was full… people were looking at me weird, my daughter won’t talk to me on the phone… and… then I find out that an old friend had passed away… it was all too much.

So, after a little panic attack and a cry to Martin, at 8pm, all emotional, tired, out of control and sad to hear about Jaye, I decide “FUCK IT” and hit the road and drove till I was tired.

It was absolutely WONDERFUL.

I have no problem with night driving. I take it easy, I am alert and know how to handle myself on country roads. And… it was awesome. No roos, the occasional road train, and passing dead quiet country town after dead quiet country town.

And then I saw the big concrete cockatoo. Never before have I been so relieved to see the stupidest thing I have ever seen. Kimba. Halfway across Australia and slightly more than halfway through my trip. It is hard to describe that feeling, especially given the weird state of mind I was in that got me there in the first place. But…

For the first time in about 2 weeks, I breathed out. And I smiled. And then I cried. Hard. SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW.

So, I kept going for a bit longer, and eventually started to feel tired around midnight, and because nothing was open along the way, about 70K West of Iron Knob (heh… knob), I pulled over into a rest area with all the truckies and slept in the car. Which, ironically, was the most comfortable sleep I have had the entire trip!

I woke up, found a shower on the way, and am now sitting in Port Augusta. Where I am actually feeling good and relaxed.

There’s more to write about that, so I will save that for the next post. It’s funny the things you learn about yourself when you travel on your own…

Norseman to… Madura?

by admin on March 17, 2012 in , with No comments

So, right now I am completely offline.

I was chatting to the guy at the BP in Norseman this morning, and making small talk about lack of comms and internet. He said “that’s why I kind of like not having the internet a lot of the time. When you can’t Google everything, knowledge is more valuable than information”. I liked that.

So, anyway, I drove 700km this afternoon. I arrived in Madura at 7pm. It is now 9:30pm and I have unloaded my car twice because I had to move rooms. More on that later.

For the last few months I have been contemplating/anticipating/planning the Nullabor drive. I have been reading up on how harsh it is. I have been reading about all the little adventures you can have… and, intellectually, I was completely prepared for anything that happened along the way.

And you know what?

It was fucking anti-climactic.

Not in the sense that it was disappointing – it is beautiful. It is quite Zen-like, in fact.

It was anti-climactic in the way that it was actually MUCH easier than I thought it would be.

“Oooh it’s SO boring! The 90 Mile straight will kill you from the boredom!”

Nar. Wasn’t an issue. I don’t get bored easily. My brain is a circus. Not a problem. Besides, I have karaoke in my car…

“Watch out for kangaroos/camels/bunyips and especially don’t drive at dusk”.

Well, guess what? I DIDN’T SEE ONE LIVE ANIMAL ALL DAY. And, because I am a fucktard who forgot about timezones, found myself driving at dusk. And guess what? NOTHING. I saw ONE eagle eating a Kangaroo corpse. Any other roadkill had been well tenderised days ago (and by tenderised, I mean mooshed repeatedly into the bitumen to make a mincemeat pancake)… and 2 sheep at the side of the road.

That was it.

In fact, it was a very pleasant drive. Time went fast, I barely even noticed how far I had driven, and now, I am well on track to Ceduna from here.

I must say, that there was a “squee!” moment when the road got pretty and hilly again. And here I am, at the Madura “Oasis” Motel.

This is as far as I could get before nightfall, and it’s… you know… an Outback roadhouse. I am haemorrhaging cash, with fuel being $2.10 a litre (! YES I have noticed the massive difference in consumption between Premium Unleaded and normal… massive difference and Premium is well worth the money), it’s a LOT more expensive than I thought it would be. And the accommodation is… well… not great.

To be honest, I am starting to think that I am better off sleeping in my car on a cheap powered caravan/camping site. The best night I had was in Coolgardie, but the rest have been pretty bad. So I might try that and see how I go. Can’t be any less comfortable!

Look, I am no Princess. I love camping, can live for days without power or anything fancy. I am in the Outback and I am not expecting anything other than a bed to sleep in, access to power and the basics… and… NOT HAVING VERMIN IN MY ROOM WHEN I PAY $80 A NIGHT.

Because, I tell you what… there is no vermin in my car. I have nice pillows and blankets and stuff and at $80 a night, I will happily sleep in my car if it means not having my feet chewed off. The thing that annoyed me tonight was not the mouse… I mean… it happens… it’s the Outback! But what annoyed me was the “countryfolk” taking the piss because I happened to go in and ask what I should do to deal with it. Like “har har city person” condescension… like I can’t POSSIBLY know anything about anything.

I FUCKING KNOW I AM IN THE OUTBACK. And I was not freaking out. I simply asked if they had a broom or whatever so I could get it out to sleep… but it became this big deal. And then I look like a city prick freaking out over a mouse, when I really didn’t care… I just didn’t fancy paying $80 for the privilege of wildlife infestations around my ears.

I’d take up drinking if it wasn’t $300 for a bottle of wine.

So, Eucla & the Bight and pretty things tomorrow. I am looking forward to seeing the ocean. I am leaving here at 6am, so I should go get some shut-eye.