Is there anybody out there?

This is the post excerpt.


Life’s hard.

You don’t realise how hard until it smacks you in the face, leaving you questioning everything.

I’m just one person, trying so very hard to make sense of life.

Im a mum.

I’m random.

I’m depressed.

I’m an estranged wife.

I’m a widow.

I’m me.


Welcome to my crazy, sad, mad world.

So proud of myself!

Day 4 of Aussie flu and the fevers finally broke. Unfortunately so did the toilet!

But there I was layed on the bathroom floor, up to my armpit in the soil pipe, hand scooping rivers of shit and baby wipes my darling lil bears have flushed.

I had a meltdown and cried that I had to do this myself, no man of the house to rescue us this time. But iv done it!

3 hours, lots of sweat, tears and tantrums but IV DONE IT! Me, on my own, with no help.

I’m so proud of myself.

I hope my Lee is up there somewhere being proud of me too.





RANT! Sorry!

If you want me in your life, fine. Make me a part of your life, im all for it.

However if you want me in your life to make you feel good about yourself then don’t bother. I don’t play games. I don’t stroke egos. I say shit exactly as I see it and I will probably offend you at some point. I’m miserable and depressed and generally not great at socialising.

Most of the really important people to me are already nothing but a memory and I have no problem making anyone else the same.

Call me a bitch all you like but dya know what? I don’t really care what anyone thinks of me anymore.

Take me as I am or leave me alone.



Postaday- Cozy.

The beads are his. He wore them till his end and I have worn them since, they have brought me some comfort.

Today I wear his beads with a new addition, I now have my charm with a little of him inside too.

It makes me sad that all I have left of him are memories and a pile of dust but weirdly, having this tiny piece of him so close to me seems to have changed me.

Snuggles with my Lee were the best and always brought me so much solice. Having a tiny piece of him laying on my chest has brought back a feeling I thought i had lost forever.

Cosy! It feels cosy.







The mind works in mysterious ways, so they say. Thinking about this word, proclivity, sets my mind on a tangent but eventually settled on this thought.

Is Christmas just a proclivity?

Is it just a habit we chose to perpetuate year after year without any purpose to it?

My thoughts take me through the logic of it. Asking questions of its validity. I know I’m not religious so don’t celebrate for those reasons.

I find that I celebrate it for the kids benefit. So that they don’t miss out. But not this year.

This year there was just myself, baby bear, lill man and lill miss. There was no hype. The kids were excited and loved opening their gifts. We had the usual fight at teatime, (trying to negotiate broccoli consumption with a 3 and 6 year old is always a chore!) And bedtime went by just as always. It was just like any other day and no one complained we didn’t do the hype. (I don’t recommend becoming a widow and Christmas. Not feeling it this year!)

Is it just my proclivity in the past that kept the self perpetuating holiday hype going?

Are my kids missing out even though they seem not to have noticed?

Should I feel selfish?