more short fiction

Samantha, I just want you to know that this time last year, I considered you a good friend, and potentially someone who could become a close friend. I considered it an honour to turn up at your birthday party to help you celebrate. I was willing to engage, support, brainstorm creative ideas, talk out relationship concerns, have coffee catch-ups, see exhibitions, whatever, to develop our friendship. I would have been there for you with anything. Then I broke up with my boyfriend. The job I thought I had didn't come thru. I was so broke I couldn't feed myself some weeks. I went through a prolonged shock / identity crisis because I had been living a lifestyle that never really suited me. I was understandably sad, and sometimes vulnerable. I tried reaching out to you as a friend many times. After that one (very kind) visit you made, I don't ever recall you actually reaching out to ask how I was. I'd try and talk to you. You seemed OK about it, but you never followed up, never checked in. I've been a fucking mess, and I needed my girlfriends. Not just someone who would randomly, casually engage on FB when the mood or the subject took her. I thought we had more of a friendship than that. I really did. I kept waiting, understanding everyone has busy periods in their life. But you know - I feel like a friend who cared would call a person occasionally, suggest to meet up. That's what I'd certainly do. By the time your birthday came around this year, I pretty much had had no real personal contact with you for at least 8 months. 8 months. You were one of the few people who had any idea what an incredibly tough time I was going through. Yet no coffee invite, no invite to your new place, no phone call to see how I was faring. Just group invites, when I'd told you how bad my social anxiety was. This is the behaviour of an acquaintance, and not even a particularly caring one, not a friend. Just because there's a green dot on your screen next to a person's name, does not mean all is necessarily OK. I really thought more of you as a person. I really did... So when your birthday came around this year, and you proved yourself perfectly capable of sending me a text msg (the first in about 10 months), I did get it. But by then, I was hurt, and actually under the impression our connection had moved from a real life friendship to an online acquaintanceship. I didn't feel like being the equivalent of people poly-filler for your birthday do, when you couldn't just ask me as a friend just ONCE in 6 months - "Hey, how are you? Let alone 'let's catch up." When we first met, you seemed very keen for us to be friends. So, I guess I disappointed you somewhere along the line for your enthusiasm to wane so. Sorry for whatever it was I did- but I can't stay silent about how hurt I am anymore, Samantha. And now, I lose my bike - and what do I get from you - "good luck". Seriously ... do you have any idea how your behaviour looks like from the outside? I risk you unfriending me from sending this - but I'm tired of actually being hurt by your nonchalance. If you can't take this on board, and see that you've really hurt someone who considered you a friend, then yeah - I don't know where to next. Love, a sad and hurt friend. Xo

wow. I'm sorry that you're hurt. I could launch into an explanation of my life these last 12 months but you're probably not interested, so I won't. I'll back out. I often can't find the words I want. I wish you all the best and I'm sorry that you feel I've let you down.

So, you are backing out of an opportunity for honesty to make a friendship more real, more authentic? Do you think I risked saying these raw, hard things because I wanted to end our connection? No - I wanted you to have some chance to know how I felt and some chance for you to give me your truth - your perspective... In my pain and my moving away from you because in the months of non-communication, I had given up trying to start a conversation with you. Of course I was aware that stuff might be going on for you - why do you think I waited so long to say something? I'm not asking anyone to fix my issues, I just hoped for some companionship through it -some lightness. If I didn't value you, I would have just stayed silent, continuing to have these feelings, and have less and less contact with you. If you want to talk through stuff, I'd be happy to listen. But I think it would be better to do it at least in a phone conversation - if not face to face. However, if you really feel that our connection doesn't deserve that, then I will sadly accept that, too. You surely must have been wondering why I was distant, and not making personal contact? As that is honestly where I felt our friendship was going anyway - but against my preference. In my opinion, it was worth pointing out what has been puzzling me, and hurting me - at least I've stopped pretending nothing was wrong.

I’m sorry that your version of our relationship didn’t tally with my version. People participate differently within friendships and for different periods of time.

To receive such a message from you feels like an assault. Did you stand back and aim your arrow high?  I know you are an accomplished writer. I like to read what you write usually. Your stories entertain and delight me – usually. Your version of our interactions is your version. I’m not sure I even have the energy to put up my side.

A year ago (your time construct not mine), I felt that we were starting to move from acquaintance to friend. Close friends don’t come easily to me.

I’m sorry that you feel that I disappointed you. Last year, for the first time in my life I experienced anxiety and depression. Yes, I’ve said the D-word. It was a draining and confusing time. I sought out a quiet nest far from the too noisy world. The whole experience was over-whelming and far more reaching than I could ever have projected. I’m sorry that you feel I let you down. I felt let down by life.

#myindigoobsession

Last year I started having some sessions with a counsellor. It was during my blue period. I was experiencing a very strong attraction to dark, indigo blues. My paintings were being pulled in that direction. I seemed to be drawn to dark blue fabrics and items #myindigoobsession Indigo, cyan, navy, cobalt, azure, cerulean. Even the names of the blue pigments attracted me; their mellifluous sounds haunted my mind.

all artworks my originals

I found myself nesting, actually curling up on the couch pulling the soft blankets in on top of me. The television may have been turned on but I wasn’t. Books couldn’t hold my gaze; their words raindrops beading on my skin. I avoided phone calls and even refused to read text messages or emails. Bailing on prior commitments, I found the clutter of people draining. I attended my job in automatic mode, flicking the switch that would shut off 8 hours later when I crawled back into my nest. The bills still needed to be paid even if I didn’t feel up to it.

I don’t precisely recall who or what finally made me phone the counselling service but I did and a session was set for 5 weeks time. Five weeks could have seemed an aeon away but knowing it was booked in was a comforting thought. Day by day, the five weeks passed.

There’s an odd thing about counselling sessions. Two strangers sit opposite each other in a neutrally aesthetic room on chairs that at first seem comfortable, and one opens the flood gates on the issues at hand. I can see the counsellor sifting through the oncoming waters trying to pick up the pieces of a jigsaw without knowing what the final image looks like.

My counsellor (we’ll call her Kate cause that’s her name) seemed to know when to raise the levy so we could more intimately discuss a point. Knowing the right question to stop me in my tracks, she was adept at asking questions I didn’t know how to answer. One thing I’ve discovered about myself over the years of journaling is that I have a gestation period of roughly 24 hours. I need time to digest an idea and roll it over in my sub-conscious before I can formulate my response. Even when I was dating I found that I didn’t really know how I felt about someone until the next day. Counselling appeared to be similar. The next day, I could articulate what had taken place but straight afterwards, my head was in the clouds.

I managed to get some great clarity on a few issues during our sessions. I may have made the initial appointment after some depressed episodes but we never directly dealt with depression. By discussing a variety of issues, I suspect we dismantled the depression brick by brick bringing the sunshine back in.

Whilst many of my friends may not have ever known that I suffered from depression, which in and of itself can be a trigger word, I have discovered that by talking and writing about it fears of stigma have blown away. It is precisely people like me who are bubbly, talkative and energetic on the outside who others don’t suspect would suffer from anxiety and depressive episodes. We can. We do. I guess that’s the point. I don’t know how I got lost but I talked to a professional, I took it easy on myself and I climbed out of my nest ready to face the world. I still like my indigo blues and find it grounds my visual art but I’m no longer stuck in my indigo obsession.

Viciously Dating

It is often said that you meet people for a reason. Well over my 7 years of vicious dating, I met many people. I tried dating in all its many glorious forms.

 First of all I signed up to RSVP which is a well advertised and from my understanding a well patronised online dating site. My best friend at the time ( and luckily for me and her she still is) signed me up over a bottle or more of Sav Blanc. I say it was due to her superior typing and word skills that she did the finger work. Either that or shall was experimenting vicariously through me. ... So what to say of those times? I met some lovely people a few of which are still Facebook friends or more. I chatted with some interesting chaps who I’m sure were perfect for someone else – just not me. I interacted with some downright dodgy characters who didn’t even graduate to getting my phone number.

Tired from the effort I thought I needed something which skipped the list keeping stage and jumped straight to the ‘do we have chemistry?’ stage. Speed Dating! Convinced by same said friend, one Sunday afternoon we went speed dating. She swore that friends of hers had done it, had fun and connected with some lovely gentlemen. Well, not one of those lovely gentlemen, were in our session. It appears that we scored the tradies from Narre Warren whose leisure activities stretched as wide as watching tv lounging on the couch whilst drinking beer to huntin’, shootin’ AND fishin’.  

I devoured a few of those popular paperbacks “He’s Just Not That Into You” dating rules and how to find Mr Right kind of books. I turned up looking good even when I didn’t necessarily felt like it. I kept my eyes open to men in all circumstances even in the local fruit shop. And one day whilst waiting in a popular Melbourne restaurant for a friend (I’m always early. In fact if I’m late it just means that I’m on time)I met a man who I spent 14 months with. This was what I termed an organic meeting - all chemistry and no list ticking. He wasn’t Mr Perfect. In fact he probably wasn’t even Mr Halfway-there. We had fun together. We both liked good food and good wine and good movies. I always knew it wasn’t forever but it sure was a fun 14 months.

I even went clubbing with friends which only reinforced that it wasn’t my scene. I have trouble concentrating with background noise, always have. As a mother of 2 teenage daughters, I sincerely doubt that Mr Right or even Mr Almost Right was going to be hanging out in a noisy doof doof club.

So I figured it was back to online dating for me. This time I surveyed my friends. Which sites might be fruitful for the kind of man that I was looking for? Some of the free ones turned out to be big hook up sites which wasn’t what I was looking for. On a side note, I’ve always found that as a semi confident woman, sex for sex’s sake hasn’t actually been all that difficult to find. Certain other sites seemed to demand you fill out essay length forms before anything would even go live.  I found one that was a happy medium. Never one to pay any money, I signed up for my free profile and filled out the necessary questions. Forget that I incorrectly spelt my profile name – not that anyone ever picked me up on it. I was off and running.

One gentleman in particular seemed to continually check out my profile.  Quick check of the photos – ok..Peruse his question responses – nothing to raise any concerns there. DAMN! He’s in Perth. How come his profile states location as Melbourne? Oh, he’s moving to Melbourne in a week. Nice..fresh meat. We connect. We email. We talk on the phone. A couple of weeks later, several days after he moves to Melbourne, we have our first date. I warn him to wear his serious walking shoes as I’ve planned a 4 hour walking tour of my glorious city. He was such a gentleman and after driving him home all I could think was that I wanted to spend more time in his company.

One time I sat down and listed the reasons I met certain men. Moreover, these are the things I learnt about myself while dating these men. Please note the names have been changed to protect the innocent. They are in no particular order and I promise the names are made up so there’s no point trying to figure it out.

Simon – I need someone who is willing to be part of my greater family

Matthew– I need someone with brains as well as a hot body that he knows how to use

Pete – I need someone who matches my inner age

Chris – I need someone who I find sexually appealing

Adam – I need someone who doesn’t spend longer getting ready than I do.

Craig – I deserve someone who doesn’t keep me waiting whilst he answers a work call while having dinner with me

Greg – I need someone who doesn’t refer to me as simply ‘a friend’

Martin– I need someone who is willing to be with me and my children.

Ben – I deserve someone who is motivated and on track financially

David -I want someone who has a strong interest in good food and wine/beer

Jason - I deserve someone who is generous of spirit

All artworks featured are my originals and for sale.

I very much enjoyed my time viciously dating. It was fun. I met some lovely men and some not so lovely men. All said, I’m grateful not to be dating. I love my man and am happy chilling out at home together.

I don’t belong here

I’m living in the wrong place; somehow it just happened. One thing lead to another and there you go – I’m living in a place to which I don’t belong. Please don’t misinterpret me. I love my house. I have friends in the local area. There are some great shops, cafes and public transport within waling distance. It’s visually pleasing, mostly quiet and I’ve mostly good neighbours.  It’s just that I don’t belong here.

I don’t feel like these are my people. I often find myself at odds when discussing ideas or issues. The main thrust of my artwork usually gets greeted with raised eyebrows and an open mouth. Worse – I find myself censoring what I show and (here’s the real kicker) even what I create.

This isn’t where I want to be – literally.

For now, I’ll stay - due to ties that have a natural limited lifespan.

Good thing that I dwell in two places. I also have a part time inner city abode. The vitality and fast pace I find in my other home stimulates and energises me. I appreciate this dual living for how it sustains me for now.

Next big thing

This last weekend I was fortunate to share in a delightful reunion of our mothers group that was first formed over 16 years ago. What follows below is my response to a conversation that inspired after a vino or three. We were discussing how supported we all felt when we had our wee ones and would bring any issues to our mothers' group. Our eldest kids are now 16 years of age but that kind of supportive environment is never redundant. 

Most of us are blessed to be in a position to explore new directions right now. It transpired though that being somewhat accountable could help push us along to reach new goals.

So we have given ourselves six months to achieve our personal, self-set goals.

Below is what I have submitted. 



What?

to explore mediums other than painting acrylics on canvas

to explore 'vessel' - the term, what it looks like, feels like etc

How?

I know it's vague but, for me, that's how I roll artistically/creatively. When I start I only have an indistinct idea. I've tried starting with clearer thoughts of the end product but it only constricts me, doesn't allow me free reign and I pretty much always end up dispirited and disappointed. 

I need freedom to play, to explore... to be wrong.

Practical steps

I'm planning to partake in open pottery sessions at my local Living and Learning centre 

I'm re-visiting my love of crochet - some pieces will be stiffened with the use of a simple sugar syrup (combining my foodie bent?)

I'm planning to play with paper-mache and see where that takes me.

Why?

I had a dream that I created milky porcelain vessels, held in both hands they were supped from.

They were almost breast shaped (doesn't take a genius to see connection there) though slightly almond, tear-drop shaped also. 

Anyway - that's my two-cents worth.

I'm planning on collating everyone's ideas/plans and sharing them amongst us all as I don't wish to be the keeper of information but rather a co-facilitator. We shall all hold each others' ideas amongst us as a group.Many years ago we nurtured each others' children. Now we can nurture each others' ideas. What beautiful symmetry!

Calling In Support

I may be headstrong (some say stubborn but I prefer to reframe in the positive) and viciously independent at times but I'm getting better at recognising how important it is to call in support when you need it. I don't think it really matters whether it is family or friends or an online connection in a land far,far away that you summon. Does it matter? I don't think so...

I guess it depends what kind of support you need. That'd be the second hurdle (the first being knowing you require support) - figuring out what form your support is required. Is it physically being there to ferry kids hither and tither that is so often part and parcel of this time of year? Is it being on the other end of a phone line or keyboard to make the appropriate comments at the appropriate time (A-hah,yeah,sure,absolutely, dump him!) Is it to monetarily contribute to a friend's Pozible space camp fund? Is it to pose those questions you don't ask of yourself?

I have a good friend who does this. It can, at times, make people uncomfortable in their very seat. I have wondered if there is a degree of Asperger's there - being unable to read people's reactions, emotions and facial expressions. Still, it works for me. It pulls me out of mainstream expectations and actively seek what's right for me.

I often only need someone to listen if I have a demanding day, though I won't knock back a foot rub and a glass of wine handed to me. My point is that I am getting so much better at asking for help. Not sure if it's an age thing, but I currently have little reservation in seeking what help I need and fortuitously now there are people in my life that are coming to the party. 

So, if I ask help, I want you to know that it was a journey getting here and I really appreciate it if you're able to contribute. If you're not, I'm completely okay with that too. I have a view of the world that people do what they can when they can and that's okay.

I'm grateful for the simple things

I am grateful for the simple things in my life.

The other day for lunch I made sliced tomatoes on toast. Simple and simply delicious. On locally made organic sourdough toast, I placed thickly sliced softly ripe tomatoes and some peppery basil just picked from my garden. Freshly cracked white pepper and salt crystals finished it off nicely. Truly yum!

It looked pretty and tasted pretty delicious.

I remember, during my childhood, my dad enjoying a similar breakfast at times (albeit without the home grown basil). It's funny the things that stick in your mind. I also remember the tinny sound of the clock radio on top of the fridge broadcasting the horse racing programs on a Saturday morning. I remember my surprise when I learnt that trams have the ability to go around corners - I'd only ever seen them go in straight lines. I also remember that comforting feeling of their always being somebody around. In a house where I was the youngest of four children, it was a warm fuzzy feeling having someone always there.

I'm grateful for my childhood - no complaints or blaming here thank you very much.

I'm grateful for good friends and family that enrich my life.

I'm grateful for happy, healthy children.

I'm grateful for restful,restorative sleep.

I'm grateful for the many opportunities life offers me.

I'm grateful to live a comfortable life.