Stick’s and stones may break my bones but…..

I am sure your mind raced ahead and you finished the above heading before you even realised you had. This saying has been around for decades, one I myself was taught and raised hearing more often than not. I recall even using it when in the playground as a young child in South Africa.

The saying went like this for those who are new to it:

“Stick’s and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

How this has changed. As a little girl who used to ride her bike around the streets of the neighborhood in South Africa I remember yelling this out to those pesky boys as I rode off. Feeling invincible! Now, this saying seems almost silly, stupid and irrelevant even……. backwards!

I often sit across from your people who are struggling with what has been said to them either directly or indirectly through a social media forum. A forum which we have limited if no control over!

A parent’s, teacher’s and schools nightmare!

I never even knew what Facebook was until I arrived in Australia, I did not even have my own mobile phone. The day I received my Nokia ‘brick’, at the age of 14, I was so excited. This was a time when the game ‘snake’, where you pressed the numbers, 2,4,6 and 8 to ensure it never touched the walls of your screen and thus the game ended, was the highlight of having a phone. Where sending a message meant pressing all the buttons multiple times until the letter you wanted appeared, then having to wait if you need a letter from that same number again ………..a camera?? what phone had a camera! I even remember the craze of the flip phones, the idea that you could flip it open when it rang and that was cool! I was cool!

How times have changed!

Now more often than not I find myself, as a teacher after 11 years, involved in daily conversations with our young people. Their ages ranging from 10 to 17 year, about the impact a few words or an image can do have when sent through these devices.

Forums can be anonymous, instagram is no longer just photos and this is just two of the many social media forums available to our young people!

You can be recorded at any time day or night, your messages can never be deleted, your words are now in the ‘ether’ forever. That photo you never meant to take, the words you were never meant to type, the forum you joined or the snapchat of your friend you laughed at….. all at the tip of our young peoples fingers. The ramifications of all of these are immense!

I think this vulnerability is new to some of us, myself included and I would not say I am old. Technology has just move forward at a pace I am sure many of us are unable to even comprehend.

I suppose it is about educating ourselves, spending the time getting to know what the forums are and how they work. Just the other day I asked my 13 year old to give me a quick tutorial on how snap chat worked. While this was in fact for me to learn I also was able to see/monitor her snap chat. A quick glance at it anyway.

I frequently see students who hide their phones and make up fake accounts all so they can be accepted and seen as normal by their peers. This is scary as a teacher and even more so as a parent of a young teen!

Its being aware, being educated and knowing what is out there that will enable you to keep an eye on your young people! It is important to do this as from what I have seen and heard over the past few years would shock you! The level of manipulation, bullying, harassment and even impersonating young people to gather information is very real.

A touch of a button, a photograph, a few words and a young persons life can be changed forever!

I think the times have shaped this saying and it should read;

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words may forever hurt me.”

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The curse of the tattoo.

Tattoos are something that used to be frowned upon and yet now seem to be something we see on almost everyone.

They vary from small pictures or words to full sleeves, or even whole body works of art.

I have a few.. each with their own story. I think over time that’s what they become. However, I always thought one particular type of tattoo carries with it a curse and I believe, for me anyway, that it is and was true.

My first one was in a way an act of rebellion. I was 18 and had been in Australia 5 years. Being the teenager I was and having been told I was never allowed to get one, what did I did as soon as I was able….. well get a tattoo of course!

At that stage of my life I dreamed of being a marine biologist. You know one of those fit young women who swims with the dolphins and plays with all the marine animals. Like we see at Sea World and on TV.

So away I went, I got a dolphin with a blue Maori pattern. As usual at the time, on the right pelvic bone, which would be seen when I wore my bikinis to the beach.

Back when wearing bikinis was what I did.

It hurt like hell and I managed to keep it hidden from my parents for a while. My mother was the first to spot it and from there well the rest was history.

When I was pregnant my dad used to laugh and comment on how the head of my dolphin was becoming the size of a whale. Note to all the women out there, think about if you’re going to have kids when you decide on where to get a tattoo as they don’t quite return to normal after being stretched beyond what feels like a few watermelons!

Needless to say my tattoo returned to somewhat normal and my parents forgave me.

Time for a bigger one I said.

A few years later and a painful 8 hours I had a side piece. A somewhat green, red and yellow cherry blossom. Something I pictured as white and pink but did not turn out that way.

A piece that I have fond memories of.

The next smaller one was of a persons name. Now I say this like that as I had always vowed NEVER to get a persons name tattooed onto me. I always thought it would ‘curse’ me and or the relationship in some way.

People used to laugh at me when I told them this but I stood my ground.

Well until January 2018. I had been married almost two years and with him for nearly six. We had talked about getting each other’s name on ourselves…….. ah, sweet, how romantic you might be thinking or even cringing and thinking how corny. Well it was always discussed and I managed to put it off for over a year.

However, January 2018 rolled around and we had bought the house, been married for almost two years as I said before so I though that it couldn’t possibly be cursed. Everything was going swimmingly. Or so I thought.

On it went, 1 hour and a small simple pattern on my left wrist.

By May 2018 we were separated, by July the house we bought only a year earlier was sold and I haven’t heard from him in months.

Cursed you say? Was it the tattoo? Who knows but I do stand by the notion that by putting his name on me I had in some way cursed myself. It was just a feeling.

It’s now January 2019 and I have started the process of having it lasered off.

This was day 2. It took about 15 minutes and hurt like hell. It’s literally like having your skin burnt off, slowly, and you cannot pull away!

This is three weeks later. Healing well but will take at least three more goes before it will be faded enough to be faded enough not to be seen or even tattooed over.

Itchy as hell and still a reminder but soon enough will be gone.

Round two and this time I thought it would hurt less. I was very wrong! This session hurt even more. She spent a lot longer on it and as she said later; “I really zapped it!” You sure did I thought.

Two days later and it was swelling up like a water ballon on a tap. It hurt, was itchy and burnt when I touched it. One more session to go I hope!

It’s healing, two weeks now since the last session.

I suppose after all this, and when it’s finally gone I am not sure it won’t be ‘completely gone’. There may still be marks and a tiny bit of scarring but at the end of the day it will be a constant reminder for me.

I was right!

Failing as a parent?

Have you ever just stopped and looked at your children and thought; “am I failing as a parent?” Is this what I have role modelled and is this my fault?

Lately this question has been on my mind. It’s actually the centre of my daily thoughts and responsible for the unease and restless nights!

My parents met when they were young, high school sweethearts in fact. Two people who I have realised I put through hell but two amazing people. I am the strong and determined person I am today because of them. They may have felt like I do now at times I am sure, but I am where I am because of them! Achieving the things I am, travelling the world, Working with underprivileged children, building structures for them that we take for granted. Teaching our parents children to value what they have. Go be thankful!

I am wholesome and appreciative of everything I have because of the parents I have.

I was taught to always open the door for adults, to help clear the dinner table, to eventually pick up after myself. Not to swear, not to talk back (often), to try and not fight with my brother. I was taught to say thank you, to appreciate an education and eventually overtime realise all the money and time that had been spent to give me every opportunity under the sun!

When I found out I was having a child I vowed to be just like them. To bring her up with morals, teach her manners, teach her respect and to be thankful. To appreciate how truly lucky we are to have what we have and be where we are.

Today I question if I have failed as a parent?

Life has not been easy since she arrived. A surprise she was, but a wonderful surprise. Her father and I young and with nothing did the best we could with what we had. However, it was not enough. Single parenthood here I come. This was hard, you learn that you have to be the mum and the dad. You are the one they take it out on, the one who they cry out for at night and the one who is their centre when the world around them is just to much.

You never get a break. There is no such thing as ‘time out’ from parenting, but we get through it, the daily grind… we survive.

Was it that her father and I didn’t work out that I feel like I have failed?

No, that was not meant to be and for many years we co parented wonderfully.

New man on the scene a beautiful wedding but a ‘touch and go’ few years. Counselling, courts, tears, anger and more. I was again a single parent, the better decision, and time has and will continue to be spent rebuilding us both.

Was it this? Did I fail her again?

Today I sit hurt, angry and it feels like always on the verge of tears. The constant back chat, the entitlement and the lack of respect, the teenage years are upon me and again I am doing it alone.

No longer is her father in the picture, nor the man I loved for 6 years. I am again doing it alone. This time there is no co parent relationship, this time there is no one to ask for a break or a night off. No adult to converse with or to debrief after a hard day. Being invited out with the ladies and having to continually say ‘I can’t make it’ as there is only you. Knowing to leave for a night or take a break has to be organised, takes forward planning and organisation and at times you’re to tired to even think about doing it, even when you know it’s exactly what you need.

This time I am truly doing it alone and again I wonder if I have failed as a parent?

I have watched as the children at school have lost respect, lost manners and certainly lost the ability to be thankful! I have watched them grow more entitled and think at the age of 13 they are equal to us as adults. That our life experience means nothing. I have watched them push boundaries I would have been scared to even think of pushing.

I watch this all filter into my home! Is this what I had thought parenting would be like? Certainly not!!

Working two jobs to keep a house over our heads, spending the last cent I have to ensure she has what she needs and there is no thanks. Their is no gratitude. Is this because I have failed as a parent?

All the decisions I have made have been for the betterment of her. Does she understand? No at 13 she doesn’t. Will she ever? Maybe, one day.

All I know is I question if everything I have done and continue to do is failing her as a parent?

Is this parenting? Questioning what we are doing and if we are doing it right? If so parenting sucks and I wish to resign! I wish to put it on hold or get an ‘extension’ as the kids do at school on an assessment when the going gets tough.

We can’t though! We have to wake up, paste a smile on our face and keep going. Hoping that as a parent who works, provides and continues to teach those valuable life lessons will one day be enough. That these hard times and lessons will set up our children with the skills they will need when they leave the safety of our own home.

From the moments when they refused to leave you, huddled between your knees on that first day of school, the tears and the fear in their eyes. To the fighting and arguing as they learn to be independent. You watch as they learn to fail, have friendship issues and go through hard times and have to think it’s going to be okay. That’s all part of life, isn’t it? Part of parenting?

I guess I am not failing but doing what people have done for years. I am parenting to the best of my ability. Putting everything and all I have into it.

One has to hope that’s enough!

That liberating feeling! (Part 2)

It is surreal to think about where I was not only two weeks ago. Being back in the normal day to day activities of a school teacher, I find myself day dreaming and looking out the window expecting to see the snow capped mountains I became so accustomed to.

I wake with a start hoping, yes hoping, to find myself on the thin mattress, my clothes and hiking pack strewn all over the tent floor beside me.

But, no, I am in Australia, at home, in a bed and my clothes, while still possibly strewn on the floor are not half as dirty as the ones I was dreaming of!

The second half of this amazing journey was completing the Salkantay Trek. This trek is one of the many pathways the Incas took to get to Macchu Picchu. However, the Salkantay is less traveled by tourists and the general public.

“Why you ask?”

Well it is because it is dam, hard! Its a mental, physical and emotional challenge!

It is 5 days of waking early, constant walking, sometimes for 8 hours or more, over mountains, through snow, rain, sleet, amazonian heat and humidity and bugs…. lots and lots of very large bugs!

We talk about Melbourne weather here in Queensland being temperamental but man this was unreal!

Let me take you through the days one by one!

Day 1, the start…… a puffed out 15min walk from the bus and I was thinking to myself, I am already puffed, how am I going to survive the next 5 days…. A bead of sweat on my forehead and the heart rate increasing……..

It was okay though, these were all an effect from nerves and of course the altitude, as we were now sitting at 3800m above sea level. After breakfast in one of those amazing igloo shaped buildings, which mind you are quite warm and are part of the accommodation available for those who wished to rest prior to the trek, we set off……

The main section of day 1, and by far the most challenging section, was passing through the Salkantay pass, bordered by Mt. Salkantay herself. She is one astonishingly beautiful mountain who frequently disappeared behind the clouds only to reappear a minute later!

This is her, a majestic snow capped mountain!

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It took us approximately 5 hours to get to the top of the pass. We had already climbed a number of false peaks, at the top of which we thought, no more! But of course we kept going. Slow and steady, the altitude making it slow and steady!

It was cold, the lungs were burning, the hear rate was up and the legs were protesting, not wanting to take another step!

Finally, as we topped the 4800m crest we started getting wet with rain. The students commenting on how they hoped it would snow! We had mentioned snow was unlikely and we would have to be extremely lucky!

Well within a few minutes this rain turned to sleet and the sleet to snow! For one of our students this was her first time seeing snow, let alone having it thrown at her. It was such an amazing experience.

Lunch in freezing temperatures, huddled in a make shift thatch covered sleeping area, we admired the mountains as they disappeared under a white blanket, completely in awe of where we were and what we were seeing. I was wearing everything I possibly could and was still cold.

After lunch we left the snow capped mountain and began the decent through the pass and into the valley below where we spent our first night, a very cold night.

DAY 1

Day 2 was totally different, we entered the Amazonian forests. The heat, the humidity and of course the giant bugs that come with a rain-forest environment surrounded us. The mosquitoes were the size of small birds, okay a small exaggeration, but the holes they left in us were and still are quite large and very very itchy! We could not believe the change in climate!

Day 2 was 27km of downhill! This may sound easy, but let me assure you it was not! Camp was hot and humid however, a beautiful place to finally make at the end of a long 8.5 hours of walking. Again, something that had become the norm, we were accompanied at the campsite by a number of dogs. The dogs are everywhere. They line the city streets and all the public campsites even on the trek!

Apparently there is no control over their breeding and in some ways are appreciated by the locals as they deter the native wildlife when in camp. Most were clean enough, others were walking rabies infestations. Note to travelers – maybe consider a rabies vaccination!

Day 3 was a massive day. Whilst only 14km long,  it took us just over 8 hours to crest the mountain our camp was resting on top of. From this camp we could see Machu Picchu, so far away, yet so close. There is no better feeling than seeing your end goal, the reason you are doing the trek, the final days reward as you fall asleep exhausted from the days trek.

We still had a way to go yet but it was a sensational feeling.

Playing UNO while we sat inside a small building atop the mountain, thunder, lightening and torrential rain outside. The mist covering the mountains, we as, as a group came together enjoying each others company and relishing in our individual accomplishments.

The conversations often ‘interesting’ and the topics discussed deep and meaningful. This is what I treasure the most, watching the team push through the hard times, smash those mental, emotional and physical barriers and come together on the other side! There is no better reward.

Day 4, we descended the mountain and followed the train tracks which never seemed to end arriving at our base camp after a mere 17km and 8 hours of walking. Again!

Machu Picchu looming ‘very’ high above us, almost unreachable at that point in time. We all took a moment, stopped and said to one another; “How do we get up there tomorrow?”

Accompanied by 9 wild dogs. Each of which were given a descriptive and amusing name. We enjoyed our final camp dinner, cooked by our very own chef. The chef, who had managed to erect a make shift kitchen using a tarp and three wooden pylons. A hot drink and the maize specialty dessert were had before we retired early, knowing we had a 4:30am start.

Day 5, the day we had all been waiting for!

We set off up the 1876 steps to the summit, or the gates of Machu Picchu.

Joined by thousands of others from around the world we entered these gates and immediately, were breathless. The sheer size of the ruins, atop the mountain and in the clouds was unbelievable! Seeing it from below or the side will never truly reveal how amazing the ruins and the expanse they cover until you are looking at them from above!

The Incans were truly astounding people and what they were able to build and construct without the tools we have now is hard to believe. The stability and precision something we do not see today! They used the boulders atop the mountain to build their places of worship, their houses and even a sundial. The wealthy and the workers separated by the vertical gardens all terraced and now covered in plush green grass.

Splitting from the group and taking the time to move in and out of these amazing buildings, look down the sheer cliffs from their windows and interact with the Lamas was something special. The ruins are tightly supervised by a number of locals who all have whistles. You are not allowed to be loud, jump up and down, eat or sit on the ruins. If you do they will blare their whistles and wave at you wildly. The reason you are not allowed to jump up and down is they have had multiple deaths from people doing this and falling off the side and to their deaths. Who would have thought!

For a lot of people, myself included, life can seem to move to fast, be to hard and feel so unsatisfying. Well this was a moment where it felt all to overwhelming for me! As someone close to me said, “Shelley your cup is never half full, it is always overflowing!’ This was an overflowing moment and boy did I feel it in my bones. How lucky was I to be where I was and to have done what I had done. Even better I had done it with other peoples children and given them an experience I had waited 33 years for before they had even left high school!

That liberating feeling! (Part 1)

It’s weird to think that a week ago today I was finishing the final day of the Salkanty trek, ending up at the base camp of Machu Picchu……

Now I am sitting in my all to familiar little abode with the spring breeze floating through the house, the suns out and I feel liberated, free and totally self satisfied!!

The South American trip was two years in the making! It’s hard to believe now that it is over.

I am still in awe of what we did as a team! I mean who can say they have built three fully functioning toilets for a small kindergarten class that were using the small patch of dirt behind their classroom as their toilet??

Well I can and the 8 students who came with me can!

It’s amazing what hard work, being a team and basically pushing through the mental and physical barriers of being exhausted, adjusting to altitude and an overall lack of sleep can produce.

Arriving at the camp, day 2 of being in South America, our view snow capped mountains that stretched for days! Tents, our accomodation.

I was totally overwhelmed with where we were and what we were about to undertake. Would we finish our project in time? Would we all adjust to the altitude? Would anyone get sick? All these thoughts, racing through my head.

I laugh now as all it took was looking out at the view and we had to realise that we had already achieved so much! We had arrived! The rest was easy!

Waking each day at 6:30am, breakfast in the small hall built by a previous team using mud bricks called Adobes, we fuelled our bodies for the day ahead. The hike down to the school was always a quick and easy one! As downhill always is!

When we arrived it was straight to work. Mixing concrete, sifting sand, walking to get buckets of water…. the list goes on! We all became brick layers, sifters and concrete mixers. We watched the wall start to grow, the first line of bricks already down! We worked alongside a local ‘Mistro’ named Sisilo! He was so amazing and man did he work. He NEVER stopped!

Here in the first world we have no idea what hard work is! These guys do!

Nothing happens quickly in a third world!

Over 6 days our toilet block started to take shape! It was extraordinary! Each day we would pack up, dirty, exhausted and sweaty ready for our warm bucket showers.

These showers though, were at the top of the hill we walked down every morning. Now as I said downhill was easy! The uphill was crazy! We felt the altitude when we started the climb! It was only a 1.16km walk, straight up mind you, but it felt like a mountain! Your heart pumping faster than ever before, your breath stolen from you, your legs burning and the sounds of blood pumping in your ears! Altitude is an amazing thing! You can’t see it but you can feel it!

It took us 47minutes on day 1 and I am proud to say by the end of the 6 days we managed to get it done in under 26 minutes! Booya!!!

When given the chance we can do amazing things! From start to finish here is our progress!!

How amazing is that!!!

I have been asked a few times before why would you pay, or make students pay to go overseas to build a toilet. Why make them pay to work?

Well it’s easy! Look at what we achieved! In the first 6 days of this amazing 17 day adventure (see part 2 coming for the second half of the trip), we flew 33 hours, went on 5 planes, discovered the airports, came together as a team, shared stories, discovered the sights of Cuzsco, hiked up and down a hill each day, watched our project transform from one row to ten to over 20!

We watched the small local kids smile as they themselves saw their toilets transform! Our gift to them! This strange group of white ‘Gringos’ who has flown across the world to build something just for them!

We pay to help as without us they would still be going to the toilet at the back of their classroom, in the dirt and the dust.

We pay to show our over privileged children just how lucky they are!

We pay to give back to those less fortunate.

We pay to find ourselves and to build on what we have already!

We pay to build resilience, grit, patience and awareness!

We pay because the benefits far outweigh the costs!

(Stay tuned, this is only a snippet of what was a life changing, mind altering and liberating 17 days!)

Back of the toilet door

Toilets – something we all need, use often and in fact spend a lot of time in.

I wanted to find out on average how long we spend in the toilet so I used the most trusted website – ‘Google’. Here’s what it said.

“Now research has proved that women really do spend longer locked in the bathroom – the equivalent of one year, seven months and 15 days, a month longer than men.

It found men spend an hour and 45 minutes every week going to the toilet – whereas women get everything over with in a mere 85 minutes a week.

The poll of 2,500 people revealed that going to the toilet accounts for the biggest chunk of time spent in the bathroom – an average of one hour and 42 minutes a week, or almost 92 days over a lifetime”

(https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.scotsman.com/news/how-long-do-we-spend-in-bathroom-1-189-years-1-1072528/amp)

Is that not mind blowing or what!

Not only are there a variety of shapes, sizes, colours and layouts of toilets but even more interesting is what can be found on the back of them. It seems this is a place where we ‘used’ and I say that now as more often than not we are no longer staring at the back of the door but rather at our screen.

In saying that, I spent time looking at the back of toilet doors and I found them the most interesting places and it was quite an experience.

The back of toilet doors, water closets (WC), Dunny’s, lavatories, loo’s, home offices, big hole and more, are wonderful places! They are places which may enable one to gather knowledge and find out about the area you are living in or visiting. They can be a source of inspiration or motivation.

What you read and see, on the back of the toilet door can vary from articles, photos, newspaper clippings quotes and comments.

I did some asking around. This included adults, children, colleagues and also some randoms. I must say I did receive some weird looks, but these were the most common things found, seen or remembered in or more importantly on the back the toilet door.

1. Calendars – Some of us need to be assured what day or month it is. I have never seen a calendar on the back of a toilet door as of yet. however, one of the things I think about when i visualise a calendar is more the pictures that may come with the dates. Who knows the actual date anymore? That’s what our phones, computer watches and other devices are for! It may be useful for birthday reminders? You can send of a quick text while on the loo. Saves time later, or even forgetting!

2. Times tables chart or even a periodic table – to help educate our young ones. In this age of technology we would need to pry the phone or Ipad from their hands for this to even be remotely effective! I don’t think I ever heard my daughter reciting the times tables when she was on the loo. There is hope though and I think as parents we do hope the small things will make the bigger difference!

3. Historical posters – for example one teenage girl mentioned her father had historical war posters which included images and history of war tanks. This may mean you spend longer in the toilet reading them and I myself would need them to be changed or updated to be informative. Maybe this is to much to ask.

4. A book review – apparently these can be found on the toilet doors at a school. What a cool idea.

5. Signs, more often than not written in different languages, which highlight cultural expectations – such as please do not stand on the seat or how to dispose of sanitary items. These used to be mostly in English. The one I see frequently is written in five languages!

6. How to squat, the right way to do this. These signs usually include weird little stick figures or images which show the correct posture and then the cleaning process which should follow.

7. How to use a ‘bidet’ these are the small fountains which send cold rushing water into weird places! These are cultural and can be found in;  European countries, South American countries,  Middle Eastern countries and throughout East Asia, especially in Japan. They are more commonly found or as a separate structure anymore but have you ever wondered what the ‘hose’ is adjacent to the toilet.

8. Graffiti – this is where you find out who loves who and also who has hurt who. You can also generally make out the differences between being in a public toilet, a workplace toilet and the of course the high end building toilets. I mean if you take the following. One is the back of a public toilet, another from a popular food chain which has lots of people pass through it and the final one is of a toilet door in a high rise office building where your heels click on the marble as you walk in. You can spot the differences.

9. Motivational sayings and life goals.

10. Mirrors – hmmm I might leave that one alone and let your mind wander 🙂

Not only are toilets such an interesting place, where, face it, we do spend a lot of time but they can also when visiting something send our noses into overdrive or make us feel like we are living it up.

Rather than describe them I thought, as the saying goes, a picture tells a thousand words.

Enjoy, these are toilets from across the globe.

A ‘bommy’ or bush toilet used on Outward Bound. A bucket with a plastic bag. These can be interesting, especially when there are 18 people using it!

A public shower and toilet block built by volunteers in Kenya, Africa. This is luxury!The toilet, a long drop. Built by volunteers in Kenya. If you left the light on at night it attracted wildlife you did not want to share your time with.A toilet in Nairobi, I don’t think it was useable.

Bottom of the bottle…. what’s it feel like…

It’s 10am and all you think about is when will you get a chance to have a wine, a vodka and coke or something stronger?

What about it’s after a long school day and you have only one glass of wine left….. is that enough…. no it’s not, you make the trip and vow only to get one bottle but you get two as you know it won’t be enough to numb the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness….

Coming home after a long day, a vodka and coke on ice. An hour later and number of drinks later the numbness sets in. The feeling of inhibition, of pure carelessness and what we think is calmness… but it’s a false calm. A false sense of peace.

This is what you wanted, to be able to feel it’s all okay. The fact you’ve been discarded, thrown away like a piece of gum after being chewed for 6 years and just thrown away… discarded. Stuck under the chapel pew only to be found years later and scraped off by no one who understood why it was placed there in the first place.

The numbness and the haze of the bottom of a bottle makes it okay. It makes your mind seem to accept that being considered trash is okay. It makes the evening pass in a blur. What was once cuddles as you made dinner or simple conversation about your day the norm….. now a blur…

Is it okay?

Who knows, we, as in me and my actual self will have this conversation tomorrow. Then we will decide whats acceptable and what’s not. Until then, the bottom of bottle brings me the numbness and the total illusion that it’s okay, that today will pass, as yesterday did.

You climb into bed alone, the ground spinning, the bed not as comforting as it was once.

You pull the dunar over and you send your leg over the other side, searching for the touch you are all to familiar with.

Then you remember, it’s gone, it’s no longer there, and who knows if it will ever will be there again.

But it’s okay, the numbness makes it seem all okay.

The haze of the bottom of the bottle numbs the feeling of being alone, of being wrong or right. Who knows at this time as the haze is making the whole thing something you can no longer understand!

It’s knowing that eventually the numbness has to fade and something has to give.

That something is you.

You have to realise that the bottom of a bottle only hides and masks what’s really eating away at you. It’s you that’s suffering. It’s you that has to find a way out.

It takes time, it takes strength and it takes those around you to make it possible!

Seek out the help, tell those around you about the haze surrounds you.

If you don’t it’s all you will know and it’s not fair on you to let the bottom of a bottle win!

You’re more than that!!

Trust me!!