Because if it wasn’t for her I would have stopped swimming long ago.
This blog is only a slice of my life, it is a tiny snippet of how things are. I use the blog to get the words out of my head. I write out the sad, press publish and then walk away. The simple act of writing out how I feel, helps me to make sense of my emotions so that my head doesn’t explode with the weight of the words circling like so many hungry buzzards inside my mind.
I think hungry buzzards as a metaphor was a bit over the top but the image of words with wings flying in lazy circles is making me smile.
I like this internet connection I have with you. I like the fact that Jess can hear the stones whisper, that Achelois completely gets where I am coming from, Janet sends me dragonfly notebooks and youtube clips, April sends me chocolate and Christmas ornaments that remind her of dragon eggs.
There are far too many of you to list but you all help me and I am grateful.
But there is a dark side to the internet community as well. A darker side that is giving me the shits. Trolls are not uncommon, plagiarism is rife, a holier than thou attitude is starting to come to the fore, cronyism is becoming more obvious and mini dicatorships are springing up left right and centre.
And now the Australian mummybloggers have a manifesto. I will not be signing the bloggers manifesto. I will not be told what to do. I will especially not be told what to do in such simplistic terms, as if I am a child tottering about within the interwebs being told to “play nicely now.”
I like my manifestos to have a little more substance, to be a little heavier in weight, I like a manifesto that makes me think. My personal favourite is A Humanist Manifesto. Then there is the Dada manifesto, or the Communist manifesto or even the SCUM manifesto to give my brain an early morning work out.
But this post isn’t about blogging this post is about Dory whispering to me, to just keep swimming.
I took my teenage son to the doctor yesterday with the sole intention of getting him a prescription for anti depressants.
No mother wants to hear their child tell them that there isn’t any point in living because life is just too fucking hard.
The pressures of a new school environment where every bogan bully wants to fight the big guy in order to prove they don’t have small dicks. The constant pain from his Ehlers Danlos syndrome. The ongoing grief and loss from the death of his confidante and main support person, his Nan. All these things combined with the normal adolescent pressures were enough to send my son hurtling into a well of darkness and despair.
Our family GP could tell I meant business and he wrote out a prescription for David. He talked to David about lifestyle choices and the need for exercise and sunshine.
He also in one sentence totally dismissed David’s Ehlers Danlos Syndrome as being a contributing factor towards his depression.
For Fucks Sake.
This is the reality of living with a rare genetic condition in Tasmania.
Sometimes it is all just too hard for me as well.
But I am an adult, with 45 years of life experience behind me. I know that nothing is ever as hopeless as it first looks and I also have the clay which grounds me and gives me an outlet for my rage.
Dear internet, here are the words that are in my head.
I give them to you, so that they stop flying around my mind.