Thursday 26 September 2013


Part Three.....There's a girl in my mirror...

This was the hardest revelation to come to terms with.  The first....was a personal, spiritual revelation, something new, something beginning. The second...was an acknowledgement of something from my past that has always been there, always in the background...but the third.  This was something from the present...something a little confronting, a little too real. 

I had the privilege of being on the edge of a conversation and overhearing some of the opinions that some of my close friends had of me in regards to the trip that I had just taken...and it was a surprise....and to be honest...a shock.  They sounded proud of what I had achieved, of what I had done.  They reiterated how perhaps now I would have more confidence, more assurance ...and that was the surprising part.  I never doubted that I could have done what I needed to do.  I never doubted that I had the confidence or assurance so their remarks about what I had achieved sounded somewhat condescending....and to be honest...a little like pity. 

I love my friends...I have only a few treasured, close, personal friends so I know without a doubt that the comments they made were only made with love.  And I thank them for being so honest, for speaking from their hearts....because it certainly woke me up.  It made me think.  It made me reflect.  It forced me to face up to reality....or at least the reality that other people saw....not necessarily the reality I felt.  And that was what hit me hardest...that what I felt on the inside...was not necessarily what people saw on the outside.  And really....HOW important was it that people saw what I felt??

I believe that being true to yourself is the biggest gift you can give to yourself...or to anyone else.  If others view you as something different to how you feel....is it your fault for giving the wrong impression...or theirs for getting the wrong message??  I whole heartedly believe that if you are being true to yourself, then that is what truly matters.  We will never have control over others emotions or actions...we only have control of our OWN reactions to their emotions and actions.

Think about it.  Deep breathe in....now.....think.... So where does that leave me in my reaction to other people’s emotions????  Exactly where I want to be....by being true to myself...by just being myself...the world  can accept me for who I am...or it can just get screwed.  Because I am who I am....and whether people accept me for who I am or not...doesn’t really matter....because I am OK  with who I am...and that is all that matters...to me.
 
There's a girl in the mirror
I wonder who she is
Sometimes I think I know her
Sometimes I really wish I did
There's a story in her eyes
Lullabies and goodbyes
When she's looking back at me
I can tell her heart is broken easily

'Cause the girl in my mirror
Is crying out tonight
And there's nothing I can tell her
To make her feel alright
Oh the girl in my mirror
Is crying 'cause of you
And I wish there was something
Something I could do

If I could
I would tell her
Not to be afraid
The pain that she's feeling
The sense of loneliness will fade
So dry your tears and rest assured
Love will find you like before
When she's looking back at me
I know nothing really works that easily

'Cause the girl in my mirror
Is crying out tonight
And there's nothing I can tell her
To make her feel alright
Oh the girl in my mirror
Is crying 'cause of you
And I wish there was something
I wish there was something
Oh I wish there was something
I could do

I can't believe it's what I see
That the girl in the mirror
The girl in the mirror.......Is me

Britney Spears...The Girl In The Mirror...please you tube it :)

Yes....I am strong....I have my own mind....my own ideals....I am the person I wish to be....but that doesn't mean I am not vulnerable....or sensitive. I yam what I yam. And that is good enough for me and my reflection.




Wednesday 18 September 2013


Part Two...The girl in the mirror...

On our last night in Alice Springs we met with some people from our tour for drinks, dinner and to relax and cement the friendships we had built up over the past three days.  My friend disappeared early on in the night to another part of the bar so he could smoke but which was out of sight to our table which wasn’t really a problem, for him.  But for me it became a different story because he doesn’t know about my personal torment...not many people do.  I am not a very social person, especially when I don’t know people very well and so I left early in the evening under the excuse that I was tired, and that we were leaving the next day.  The real reason I left was that I felt uncomfortable.  I felt like the only person in a room full of people....I felt abandoned.  I know that if my friend knew this he would be devastated...but this was definitely a problem I had with myself, and most definitely NOT a problem I had with him.  He was faultless.

To understand a little more, I need to back up quite a few years...30 in fact...to when I was a teenager.  Due to something that had happened to me as a child, I started to suffer from panic attacks although I never knew that was what they were called back then.  I would put them down to nerves because that was the closest thing I could relate to how I felt.  A nervous disorder. There were two things that would trigger my attacks....getting close to a boy I liked....and eating with other people outside of my home.  Adrenalin would start to course through my body, my hands would get sweaty, my heart would beat alarmingly fast, I would feel nauseous (and on some occasions I did actually throw up) and I would feel absolutely terrified.  This could go on for hours on and off...depending on the situation and circumstances.  It made dating difficult although I did still manage to have boyfriends, and it made eating out on dates impossible for me...I just didn’t do it.  I got very good at making excuses. My self confidence was battered and at an all time low.

When I met my later-to-be husband, the qualities that I liked most about him were the ones I was lacking in myself....the confidence, the self assurance, the ego.  As we grew as a couple and we headed into our twenties, I no longer suffered attacks that related directly to him, but I was still very much troubled by panic attacks when eating out – no matter who was present.  Restaurants were a nightmare, eating at someone else’s house terrified me. Eating at his boss’s house threw me into a string of attacks in the days leading up.   I thought there was something mentally wrong with me so I went to a psychologist who explained about conscious and sub conscious thoughts which was helpful and prescribed an antidepressant which was not.  My partner forbade me to take them even though they were a low dose – he never understood or tried to understand what I was going through...or why.  But I still didn’t have a name for what I was experiencing so I thought it wasn’t important....that perhaps I wasn’t that important.   I started to realise that I was beginning to use coping techniques to get me through the attacks; things that I felt helped me get through without embarrassing myself or without having to explain.  I was very self conscious and far too hard on myself.  I didn’t feel I could talk to anyone about what I was experiencing.  I thought I must have been the only one as no one else seemed to have any of the same issues.  I felt too embarrassed to talk about it.

I began to realise that it was all about control.  When I felt in control, the attacks came less and weren’t so bad.  If we ate out, a smorgasbord or help yourself was the best option as I could pick and choose what I wanted and nobody really took any notice of what I ate.  The control was in the choice of food and how much. I would fill my plate with salad which was easy to eat and took up lots of space.   I rarely ate red meat and still don’t.  The food of choice being seafood or chicken as they are lighter meats.  The worse scenario was if I had to eat at somebody’s house and they piled my plate with food...food that I had no control in choosing...food that I felt obliged to eat...when really I just felt like throwing up.  There is only so much “pushing food around a plate” that you can get away with until someone notices.  It truly was a terrifying and awful feeling and one I wouldn’t wish on anyone.  I felt trapped with no escape.

I was well into my thirties before I made the connection between what I was suffering....and panic attacks.  Finally, a name...a disorder...an explanation. By this stage I had children and so the focus was much more on them than me, I was starting to feel more in control and my self confidence started to climb.  The attacks were coming less and less and this bolstered my confidence more.  I knew what the triggers were and how they felt so I could launch into damage control and keep my reactions to a minimum. In a strange twist of karma, my husband (now my ex) started to suffer panic attacks himself when he needed to fly which was at least once a month for work.  He went to the doctor who prescribed Valium and which he had absolutely no qualms about taking.  He never once acknowledged that he had been wrong in his treatment of me and my attacks and never ever apologised for any of the harsh words or contempt he gave me.  I suffered alone and in silence.  But I managed to come out the other side almost unscathed and able to go out, socialise...and eat.  I still sometimes get the odd twinge...but I know it for what it is and I doubt my panic attacks will ever have a hold on me like they did.

So, where does this leave me in a bar in Alice Springs???  Well...it wasn’t actually in the bar but when I was in bed early the next morning about 5am.  I was lying awake tossing and turning and trying to sleep and thinking over the previous night and how I was a little angry with my friend for abandoning me when I had the second revelation on this trip....I was angry with him for abandoning me...but he hadn’t really cause he was still there, just out of sight....but I felt so increasingly uncomfortable...but he had every right to be enjoying himself, he didn’t have to sit with me just to keep me happy....he was having fun, letting his hair down....but he was my comfort zone...and BANG!  There it was.  I wasn’t angry with him for abandoning me...I was angry with MYSELF because I felt that he had to be near me to make me feel more comfortable.  HE WAS MY COMFORT ZONE.  Without him knowing, he had become my comfort zone so that when he wasn't there, I couldn't cope.  So then I started thinking about all the things that had become my “comfort zone”.  My children, having control of the situation, the way I keep people at arm’s length, my nonexistent social life, my job...all the ways in which I need to feel in control so that I feel comfortable in my comfort zone.  I started to cry....I cried hot, hard, silent tears that burned down my face.  The past three days had put me well and truly outside my physical comfort zone....but when was I going to let myself truly experience life and put myself outside my emotional comfort zone???  When was I going to let the bonds that had formed from years of panic attacks fall completely away??   Since when did I need a comfort zone to feel in control??

I think the time has come....I feel ready and renewed.  My attitude since returning has been much more laid back and content and I am fiercely holding onto that feeling...guarding it and nurturing it...holding the small flame within and feeling it burn.  Maturity and confidence has taken over from the terrified, nervous teenager I once was.  Yet there was still one more revelation for me that related to this trip...another one I was not prepared for....TBC


 

Tuesday 17 September 2013

Part 1....The girl in the mirror......

Wow! What an amazing trip I have had...physically...mentally....and spiritually.  The Ghan train was everything I had hoped plus more.  It had me wishing that you could own a private train and travel the country as you wished...like a caravan.  Trains are my personal favourite for travelling distances...the only way to travel in my opinion.  Such class...such style...total relaxation and comfort.  It truly was, a dream come true.

Going from the comfort and grandeur of the train to a mini bus, swag camping under the stars, full on physical exertion of the next three days was as different as chalk and cheese but also immensely enjoyable.  The space...the heat...the inescapable mix of personalities and cultures made it a truly magical experience.   There were 14 of us in total.  2 Aussies, 2 Poms, 2 Belgians, 1 Yank, 3 Asians, 1 Dutch, 1 Irish and 1 German...plus the Aussie guide.  I was prepared for desert....wide expanses of nothingness and a bit of discomfort along the way.  What I didn’t expect was that the country really was interesting with lots of trees, bushes and changing scenery, the absolute magnificent rock formations that we saw, the pockets of greenery and wildflowers and the depth of spirituality that I felt amongst these sacred places.

The Aboriginals have such wonderful dreamtime stories of the formation and history of the land they lived upon. They had much more respect for the earth and its ebb and flow than they are ever given credit or acknowledgement for.  They are the oldest living race on earth.  And they have such a beautiful way of explaining how the land came to be...of how it was formed and moulded.  Such a spiritual race, but nothing to do with religion, only a wonderful love and respect for the earth.  I truly wish the Aboriginal race could find their space in this modern world, that perhaps more of them would embrace their culture and history.  They have so much to offer but up til now their voice has been so wrongly represented or misinterpreted. 

It was an absolutely wonderful trip for me in many ways.  I was able to spend the week with a person I absolutely adore and love and we survived each other very well which is no small feat being in each other’s personal space so much.  I fulfilled a couple of things on my bucket list....travelling on The Ghan and visiting Uluru.  I also had a few moments of personal clarity and insight that literally have rocked my world.

The first came when we originally visited Uluru.  Uluru itself is a major significant area to the aboriginals of the area.  Many parts are sacred sites which they request you do not photograph and that you show respect by not intruding on certain places, talking quietly, not soiling the ground...common sense really.  This includes climbing Uluru which I had no desire to do.  We did a small walk around the base called the Mala Walk.  There were a few culturally significant parts to this walk including some rock paintings, wave rocks where the aboriginals would camp, a sacred women’s site where they would give birth and ending at a waterhole. 

Partway along this walk, there is a stand of trees, close to Uluru itself, with a boardwalk going through the middle.  As I walked through this stand of trees I felt something move through me... a feeling of peace and serenity...I continued on the walk as there were others walking with me, and I thought to myself how wonderful it would be if on the return trip I could be in this spot by myself.  The walk continued and culminated in a waterhole which was amazing as it was so hot and dry....the fact that water could survive above ground at any time of the year was unimaginable. 

I left my fellow walkers at this moment, and headed back along the path with the hope that I would have some time alone.  Luck was on my side.  As I walked the boardwalk there was one other person coming along the path.  I paused and took a few photographs and waited for them to disappear along the track.  And there it was....finally.  I was alone...amongst the trees....in the late afternoon.  I closed my eyes...breathed the air... listened...the only sound I could hear...a solitary bird singing.  I opened myself and felt the spirituality wash over me until I was fully immersed.  I was in no way prepared for this but I relaxed and drank in the atmosphere.  I stayed for a few minutes....as long as I could....until the sound of someone else coming along the path broke my peace and stirred me.  That moment in time will stay with me...forever.  It wasn’t a significant part along the walk and whether it remains as a memory for anyone else doesn’t matter.  It will always remain in my heart and soul as the most moving and the most important part of my visit to Uluru.

Perhaps it was preparing me for the next revelation.....

 

 

Monday 2 September 2013


Clickety Clack...can’t go back...

I am about to embark on an adventure.  I have the opportunity to do something that I have always wanted to do...something that is on my bucket list.  I will be boarding the Ghan train and travelling to Alice Springs and visiting Uluru.  I am so excited I can barely think about what I need to pack...and my mind goes into overdrive on the things I might see or do or experience.

I love trains.  Always have...always will.  Both my grandfathers worked in the railways and I have many fond memories of travelling from my home town, to the next which is where most of my extended family lived, by train.  I vividly remember the sounds, the feelings, and the excitement of travelling by train.  We occasionally also had the chance to travel to the nearest capital city by train and it was such an adventure.  I remember most the sound of the wheels on the tracks, the comforting swaying motion...and the drinking fountain...seemed such a novelty at the time.  Tiny, little waxed papered cups that you could fill with cold water from the fountain.  Not surprising that I spent most of my time on the train between the fountain...and the toilet, another novelty. 

Unfortunately, the passenger train service dwindled quickly to almost nothing soon after and a grand and wonderful way of travelling will never be known to today’s generation.  Well, of course, there is intercity travel by train, and you can travel across country by rail...but the intercity travel is not the same....nowhere near.  There is nothing like the feeling of standing on the platform, with the train pulling in, the conductor checking tickets, the groups of people....waiting to farewell....and also to greet.  And of course, the railway tea shop...another world in itself and long since gone.  I treasure those memories of my early train travel because it will never be the same again.

Because we were railway family we would get fares a little cheaper, and we also had the use of the Railway Flats in Adelaide...on the Glenelg beachfront no less.  I have several wonderful memories of catching the train from Whyalla to Adelaide...to see the Johnnies Christmas Pageant.  We would catch the tram from the city to Glenelg and stay in the flats. Trains...trams....pageant...beach...the big city.  Absolute paradise!  A visit to Santa in the Johnnies Grotto, a ride on Nimble or Nipper, a trip to Darrel Lea and the perfect ending....to pick out one thing each from the toy department that we got to play with straight away.  One year I remember I picked a plastic, clear umbrella...luckily because it rained on the way home and I felt so pleased with myself that I had picked such a practical but fun gift.  I have strong memories of using it in the showers of the flat....because I loved my new umbrella so much and the shower seemed the perfect place to use it.  We ran out of hot water because I spent so long under the wonderful stream of water....using the umbrella alternatively upright...keeping me relatively dry, and then upside down filling it up with as much water as I could. I think that was also the year my brother picked sea monkeys....they were amazing to us back then.  Things that would probably bore children today.

I have mixed feelings about my trip next week.  It is always a little scary when reality catches up with dreams.  I really wish that the adventure matches with my memories and feelings about train travel that I had as a child.  I am not that naive that I would expect it to be exactly the same...but, I love trains...so I just hope that the clickety clack is loud enough to hear and the sway is enough to feel and I can be transported back a few years....maybe I should pack my umbrella......