The one where I'm feeling so happy, even I'm rolling my eyes!

It's about 10 o'clock and my family slumbers peacefully in their beds. Alexander, curled up with his Penelope, surrounded by the books he took to bed, snuggled under his quilt. His lamp is on and the radio is softly playing, soothing him as he sleeps.

Samuel, by beautiful insomniac hasn't moved from the postition we lay him in. He was so tired tonight. I imagine he'll be up again in an hour or two, but for now my heart aches when I look at his soft face and listen to his gentle breathing. It's quieter tonight than last night, perhaps this cold won't get worse.

My darling Joel, overcome with manflu, dead to the world, stretched out in our bed, his head resting on his hands, facing the spot I will quietly slip into soon. He's exhausted, another impossibly long week for him, and I hope he gets to sleep in in the morning.

And here I sit, listening to the rain on my roof and the tapping of my keys. I crave this kind of silence, and am forcing myself to stay awake to enjoy it.

So, to help me stay occupied, I figured it was time to finally come and chat to you, my friends, and fill you in on what's been happening.

The job is wonderful. Honestly. I love it. I'm working for a small firm that does copywriting, for small businesses, large firms, travel agencies, real estate agents, charities etc. The tasks are varied, travel articles, newsletters, business blogs, human resource manuals/reviews, business plans, web sites, ezines, advertising/marketing etc.

It's not the great American novel, and it's not journalism. But I admit, it's facinating. I still hold out hopes for studying creative writing and journalism. But I confess, the marketing is something that is interesting me more than I had imagined. And I'm writing. I'm researching and arranging words, drafting, redrafting. It's a wonderful feeling.

My boss is lovely. Easy to work with. Easy to be around. She has a cat I've fallen madly in love with, lol. Dalai is the most beautiful, calming cat in the world and I want to scoop him up and take him home. He is such amazing therapy and when I steal a few minutes to just sit with him and run my fingers through his fur, I feel utterly relaxed! I wish I could have one of my own. I'd forgotten how much I love cats. They're great therapy.

The job pays well. I make in 15 hours close to what I used to make in 40 in child care. Can't complain about that. I work from the office (at the moment one day a week in the office, until after the holidays when it will be 2) and 2 at home. I work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Samuel's day care days. Perfect. I work from 9.15 to 2.15. Leaving me still able to do the school run. Perfect.

So far everything about the job is just perfect.


I'm feeling pretty great, to be honest. I've had only one panic attack this week. It was a doozy, but it was at home. We had visitors. The only thing that was worse than going out, is having someone in the home. That was far worse, and on Sunday, my poor father got to see one.

ALso, more exciting. I've had just one headache in a week! One! Iwas getting migraines literally every day. Have been for the past 4 or 5 months. Every day. Last Friday (my first day of work) was the last one I had. I am certain that was simply the release of so much nervous tension, fear of starting thsi job, fear of Ingrid not liking me, fear of freezing up in someone else's home. The second I got in the car after my (wonderful) day, my head started thumping. By the time I got home I could barely see.

It was gone the next day, and it hasn't returned. I have been into the school 3 times this week. Without any jitters. I have been grocery shopping! I have visited both of my sisters in law. I have spoken on the phone to my MIL and my father.

Can you believe the difference a week has made?

Thank you for encouraging me to do this. I had made up my mind to give it a go. But your encouragement, your belief that I could do this, helped more than you know.

So, Shel. Am taking your advice. Holding on. Not letting go.

I feel peaceful, and happy and hopeful. I think about where I'll be a year from now, and I get this stupid grin on my face. Because I think I'm going to like where we are a year from now. I think I'm going to like me a year from now.
Sigh. It's ridiculous, isn't it? To be this happy only a week in? For this to have made this much of a differnce to something that has crippled me for close to 4 months. I am the epitome of pathetic.


Whatever works, lol.




Oh, by the way. Funny story.

On the first day, Ingrid and I were chatting. She asked me about my blog, and I just told her the basics. Then she said it. "What's the address?". Crap! I tried to put her off, but she grinned and wanted to see it. So I have her the address, and she right away opened it up and started reading.

She liked it, said lovely things. But.

This was the first post she read!


Mortified!


And Marg! I can't believe you delurked. YOu made me cry! Thank you. I miss you. Will try to catch you online (might PM you on EB?) next week. Your reward..a couple more pics of my boys.





I have no idea what that is on Sam's pants. I'm guessing water or yoghurt. In my defense, I wasn't there.

Public Service Announcement.

Don't watch Bride Wars if you've just been 'dumped' by your best friend.
















Just sayin..

My Boys.

Wearing what I swear is the only matching outfit they wear. Alexander begged!




Such good friends.

Help!

I'm starting a new job. Tomorrow. Help!

What if she doesn't like me? What if I'm not what she's looking for? What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm too slow.


What if I can't write anymore?

A little more hopeful.

So perhaps there is a ray of sunshine, for today things certainly look better than they did the other day.

I realised, yesterday just how much I still wanted to do the P&C. I had thought it would be a relief, to have that burden lifted. For while I love it, and am proud of the work I do, there's no question it is an added pressure, a weight on my shoulders that is always there.

They had discussed replacing me. But, as it turns out, simply in the event that I insisted on it. They thought I was going to insist this time, refuse to go on.

I've talked to them, mapped clearly out the rest of our year, trimming all I can, delegating more. I've spoken to the other execs, and Robyn (my closest friend at the school, the tuckshop convenor). The consensus is I need to be better at asking for help. And delegate, rather than micromanaging everything. Delegate some of the big, time consuming things, rather than just finding small, insignificant jobs for them, and bucking under the weight of the rest.

So, the meeting last night, far from being terrible, was lovely. It was quiet, not many of us there. But all of those close to me were, and those who tend to cause trouble were blissfully absent. We talked, laughed, joked and teased. Just like it used to be.

I had fortunately had a really, really good day leading up to it, and was actually happy to be there, rather than filled with the dread that has taken up permanant residence in the pit of my stomach.

The result, to my delight, could not have been better. I was surrounded by friends, was able to discuss what has happened to me these past months, (most of them knew but others did not, and had been worried) and map my way forward, in this regard at least. I'm honestly happy with the way it has panned out.


Now. For another development. I'm really not sure what you will think, and am a little nervous about telling you. But I'm torn, and would like your honest opinions.

I've been offered a job. It's permanant part time. School hours. Days while Samuel is already in care. Copywriting and editing. In an office (a home office), but with only one or two other people.

What would you do? If you were me? Joel's worried. He's trying not to be, he's trying to just be thrilled for me, as this is what I have wanted. I've done freelance work for this woman before, but you know how it can be, dribs and drabs, then flooded with work, then back to nothing.

This would be steady. This would help us greatly, financially. It's 2-3 days a week in her home office and a day a week (when busy, which she is at the moment, very) from home.

But. These past months, my inability to feel safe anywhere but home. I don't want to give up P&C, obviously. But I've scaled that back and have given up my day a week in tuckshop.

Would you take it? Would you risk it? I'm honestly asking your opinions. In the end, the decision is mine, with Joel. She and I are meeting on Friday, to discuss details, and for me to do a few hours for her.

Talk to me. Delurk. Please talk to me.


I made all of those phonecalls I'd mentioned to you. All in one go yesterday. Except one. I'm calling my GP in the morning. I promise. I've no idea what I'll say to her, it's not like I"m not already on medication. But I'll call.

Sorry

I am being overdramatic, and it will just sound so silly and petty to anyone else.

The past couple of months, I've been essentially AWOL from the school, from the P&C. You know why, and so did the president, and my closest friend at the school, as well as a couple of the other execs. For those that don't know, I'm an exec, VP and Fundraising Coordinator.

For the past 3 months, Robyn and Jo (Tuckshop Convenor, my best friend at school, and the secretary) have been handling things for me. I've had no choice but to let them. They've been nothing but supportive.

I offered my resignation a few months ago, but it was unanimously turned down. Noone was having a bar of it. The last P&C meeting of the term is tomorrow night. I know that I have to offer it again, it's not fair on the to be in this limbo.

I spoke to Robyn today about it. It was clear from our conversation that it's been discussed, and plans made to replace me. It is entirely fair and reasonable. More than fair, they need someone to keep this running, it's such an enormous job.

So I know they'll accept my resignation tomorrow. This makes me so sad.

I know it's silly. I know it's petty. But it was important to me. The work I do at Alexander's school is incredibly important to me, my sense of self, my self esteem. It is one of the few things I feel really good about.

And now it's gone.

And the demons win.

I'm going to have to walk away from something that means a lot to me. Give it up. My inability to function has now stolen something important from me, and I don't think I'll ever have the chance to get it back. I dont' think they'll ever give me the chance.

I can't stop crying today.

Sneaking back in.

I'm struggling. I don't know how else to say this. I keep coming in here, literally every day for weeks. I want to talk to you all. I want to banter, cry, have you all make me smile.

I don't know what to say. I don't know how to tell you how horrible this is.

I can barely leave the house. I can't pick up my phone. I can't bear the blinds open. I don't know if I can describe this as panic attacks. There's no hyperventilating. My heart doesn't race, exactly.

But the thought of leaving my peaceful, safe home leaves me ill. Sick to my stomach. Just forcing myself out and into my car, to take the boys to school/day care takes every ounce of energy I have.

I don't feel safe. It's not a feeling of 'something terrible will happen' if I leave the house. Leaving the house *is* the something terrible. Without the safety of my home, I'm agitated. I feel as though it alone tethers me, keeps me safe. And when I leave it's confines, I"ve been cut adrift, alone and it's all to much for me. My shoulders almost lock, I'm so tense. My mind races thinking of a million different things, able to focus on none of them.

My avoidance is an enormous problem. I can't pick up the phone. I can't open my mail, it literally is hidden in a drawer the moment I get it. I don't know why. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I have phone calls I have to make. Have had to make literally for months. I still have not made them. I dont' know why. Every single day I tell myself, today I"ll make those calls. They're nothing scary. At all. So why can't I make them?

I'm lonely, but I don't want to be with anyone. I'm irritated by everything, everyone. I want quiet, silence. I don't want music. I don't want the television. I don't want to be spoken to. Anyone in my house brings out almost a fight or flight response in me, I want to curl up into a ball, make myself as small as I can, desperately wanting them all to just go away. To leave me alone.

I feel like I'm hanging on by the barest of threads, and that it's going to snap. That I am going to snap. That everythign is going to come tumbling down around me. Leaving me where? I don't know.

I've never been so tired. My stomach hasn't been this upset, churning and rejecting anything I provide it, since Sam was born.

This is all I have. The computer is the safest means of reaching out for me. It's getting harder and harder to fake it.

I don't know what to do. Help me.

Sad

A news article I read this evening has left me feeling..just sad. Professor Chris O'Brien, someone many Australians have come to 'know' as a caring, lovely oncologist from RPA, is about to lose his own battle with cancer.

Professor Chris O'Brien 'gravely ill' in hospital

AAP
June 04, 2009 03:07pm

The family of cancer sufferer Professor Chris O'Brien is by the former surgeon's side in hospital after his condition significantly deteriorated.

Prof O'Brien, formerly the face of reality television medical program RPA, was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer called glioblastoma multiforme in 2006.

In April, at a function to announce $100 million in federal funding for his Lifehouse at RPA cancer treatment centre, he said he had suffered a regression.

The former head and neck cancer specialist's obvious deterioration brought Prime Minister Kevin Rudd to the verge of tears.

A statement from Lifehouse at RPA said the surgeon was now nearing the end of his two-and-a-half year battle with the disease, and he was admitted to hospital yesterday.

"Professor Chris O'Brien was last night admitted to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital after suffering a significant deterioration in his condition," Lifehouse said.

"The O'Brien family would like to thank those who have supported Chris and his work with the Sydney Cancer Centre over the past few years.

"They request that his privacy now be respected during this very difficult time."

Building works on the project which will become Prof O'Brien's legacy begins in Camperdown at the end of 2009.

When completed in 2012 it will be Australia's largest cancer care centre.

Mr Rudd paid tribute to Prof O'Brien at April's function in Sydney, saying he considered the former surgeon a "friend" and "inspiration".

"In the two years since I've known Chris, I've come to respect him deeply, to admire him deeply, to love him deeply as a first class human being," Mr Rudd said.

"It is one of the terrible ironies of life that a man like Chris would be diagnosed with the very type of cancer he did so much to fight against with his own patients."

I knew, logically that his chances were not good. I knew enough to know that that type of glioblastoma is one of the more aggressive. But oh, how I wanted him to be ok. How I wanted his to be a success story.

Go in peace, Dr. You've earned it.



It seems he has died. I pray it was peaceful, and his family is ok.