A Giant Leap Of Faith ..........(Part 8)

Sunday 24th June 2018

I had become more defiant over time and found myself resenting the fact that I couldn't have a social life with anyone else other than my Wife. I had formed a bond with a couple of the girls I worked with and every so often they would invite me out to hangout with them. Most of time I had to find excuses not to knowing full well that if I went out with anyone other than Maria, my life would be misery (more so than usual) for the next few days. 

Eventually, I found myself one day saying yes to going out. I had the time of my life. For the first time I felt that I could begin to breath again. We didn't do anything much in those early days, it was just going to the local Pub, hanging out after a meal and chatting about the craziest things. One of my favourite things to do as an introvert, is to observe other people. Most of these nights were spent just people watching and building stories around these complete strangers lives as we ponded what each one of them did for a living. 

Occasionally, one of these people may look famous which made the job of creating a life for them so much more easier. I think these nights only had happened maybe two or three times before one night out after a few drinks I found myself confiding to one of the girls who I really was. I'm not sure why I told her other than the fact I felt I could trust her with what I was saying. It was at this point that our other friend had come over to our table and all of a sudden the table fell silent with an awkward pause. I felt like I needed to say something so she didn't think we had just been talking about her because it was just one of those sort of moments. So I repeated the story to her. 

I actually returned home that night feeling like I had set something in motion that wasn't going to be easily stopped. My wife had no idea what was about to happen. To be totally honest, neither did I. I had just told two people in my life who I trusted with all my heart the biggest secret about me and it felt cleansing. For some strange reason, I got up the next day and made up an excuse to go and see my parents. Not sure what I was going to say to them at first, but felt if this was going to happen, they needed to hear it from me before anyone else. 

As I was heading there, I received a call from one of my friends from the night before to ask me how I was. I told her that I felt great and that I was about to go to see my parents and tell them. She wished me good luck and hoped that it went well. I thanked her for her support and continued on my journey. Not sure why, but for some reason while I'm writing this, I think I was riding my bike there which is why I was able to stop and talk along the way. 

My parents only lived 7kms away so it wasn't a long ride to get there, the trip going back was a little more difficult having to negotiate a steep climb heading home. When I finally arrived, I found my father sitting outside in his favourite spot on his sun-deck reading one of his Clive Cussler or Wilbur Smith books. I nervously sat down in the chair next to him and told him that I needed to tell him something about me. 

I don't know what I expected but the reaction I got was one of positivity. I guess after being told for so many years that my family and everyone else would look upon me as a freak and reject me had me worried about what was going to happen but the reality was, apart from a few digs about how my two brothers were going to have a field day with the news and payout on me, there was nothing. From that point, we decided to tell my Mother. Now my Mother was a bit more reserved about her reaction. I remember her telling me that she knew that Maria had something over me but couldn't figure out what. I was to find out later that Mum was very concerned about my safety and how others would take the news of who I was. 

Feeling positive about my decision to tell my family, I felt the next step was to tell my boss. I went into work on the Monday, went into the office and sat down ready to tell her who I was. This was no easy feat for me because I'd had had a hard enough time trying to convince people that I was a Male in childcare only to turn around now and actually say, "You know what, that's not actually who I am". My Director knew I was about to tell her something big as I was stuttering looking for the right words to convey my message effectively. She reassured me that whatever I told her that it was going to be OK. With that, I took a deep breath and dove off that cliff knowing that there was no coming back. 

My biggest fear for saying anything was that I feared that if I didn't tell them first, that Maria would come to my centre and cause drama for me. By me getting in first and telling them, it left that door closed for her. After I finished telling my Director about me, she looked at me and simply said, "OK, so what do you want to do?" I told her nothing initially because I didn't know myself at that stage. I never thought that I'd have the courage to transition, so I hadn't looked any further than just moving out of the relationship, finding my own place and living a split life. Him during the day and the real me at night in the privacy of my own home. 

I had already been searching for a new place and been accepted when I decided to call a family meeting with my two younger brothers. I had been dreading this moment in a way because of what my father had said was going to happen, but I knew they needed to know and once again they needed to hear it from me. When I arrived at my parents house, I discovered that the whole family was there. Brothers, Wives, Nieces and Nephews. I don't know why again, but I didn't expect that but in hindsight, it made sense that they were apart of it. 

While the kids played in the playroom, I began once again telling my story. To my surprise, their was no ridicule again, just unprecedented support. My next brother down offered to get me out of the house that very night. He gave me one of his cars so I could get some of my stuff out to get me out of the situation. Secretly I think he was more worried about me changing my mind and caving into her again, which going by past history was a fair assumption on his part. 

That night, I returned home to tell my Wife that I was leaving her. That I had told my family, my friends and even my work who I was and they all accepted me and that she had nothing more to hold over me. There was one person that I hadn't told and that was Maria's Mum who had lived with us for the past eight years after her Husband passed away. Maria immediately went running to her to tell her to which her reply was, "That's great news, I have some clothes I have been meaning to get rid of that maybe you would like." I laughed so hard that I think I actually cried. I hugged her Mum and whispered "Thank You". 

I don't actually think I moved out to the following day in the end. The next day was a Friday and my parents were going away for a couple of weeks so I moved into their house to house sit if you like. I gathered what I could and left the house. Two weeks after that, I moved into my new unit. All of a sudden, things became all to real. I had finally got some independence, part of me was happy, the other part of me was terrified. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life? Would anyone truly ever love me for who I am? Would Maria ever accept that this is who I am? How would the families take the news if they ever found out? What was my next step to be true to myself? 

Friends are Friends Forever........(Part 7)

Sunday 17th June 2018

Friends have always been an important part of my life. In the earlier days of my life living in the country, I didn't have to many friends, so the ones I did have, I treasured. As I continued to grow up over the years, that ideal stuck. I mean, lets face it, I was never going to be one of the cool kids because honestly, I was always a bit of a  social leper. I'd be the one hiding at the back of the room trying not to be noticed and doing my best to avoid both conversation and eye contact during parties or other social situations.  I always tried to convince myself, that I didn't need anyone else, but the truth was, I desperately did. 

While I was with my wife, I struggled to maintain any type of friendship with anyone because more often than not, my wife wouldn't like my friends. Gosh, half the time she didn't even like her own friends but when it came to my friends, she always thought there was something more to it. I mostly ever had friendships with females, for obvious reasons I always felt that I could relate to them. Friendships with males were far to hard, I simply had nothing in common with them. 

Most guys talk about Cars, Sport, Beer and other Girls. On the subject of cars, I seriously don't know anything about them other than the fact I have one and occasionally it needs things like Petrol, Oil and Water. On the subject of Sport, I could fake a little that I knew what I was on about. I mean I had a football team, heck, I even bought a membership for three years for that team. Ask me to name all the players on my team, I might be lucky to name 5 of them. If you asked me about positions on the field, I'd more than likely change the subject. On the subject of beer, I liked certain beers but standing around talking about them and their various different properties confused me. Girls however, I thought I knew a bit about, considering I considered myself one of them. The problem was, male conversations about girls would always end up the same way. 

I wasn't planning on taking this Blog here when I started, but thinking about it now, I guess have a unique perspective on the subject as I have been on both sides of the fence so to speak. There has been a lot of talk over the last few days in this country about personal safety for Women and how some Men perceive them only to be here for their own pleasure. The time for victim blaming has to stop and Men need to be held accountable of their own actions. Women shouldn't have to worry about how they act in public in regards to walking around by themselves, what they are wearing or how things they say can be misinterpreted. The simple fact is that there is a certain culture in our country that gives some men the right to think that they can treat Women with a total lack of respect and as nothing more than objects to leer at and make disgusting remarks about. At times I have found myself in the middle of some horrendous conversations that I have had to walk away from because of the content being discussed. Sadly, back then I didn't have the courage to stand up and say, "You need to stop". Some Men need to take a big step back and have a long hard look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves, is this they way civilised people should be acting? I'm I setting a good example for others? How would I feel if this was someone talking about someone I cared about? The time for victim blaming is over, it's time to address the real problem and re-educate some of these cultural problems in our society.  

I say some men do this, not all of them thankfully. Some can be kind, considerate and very thoughtful at times. Some can be amazing role models for others to aspire to become. Some even become unlikely hero's to their daughters who hang onto to mostly every word that he says. I have one such male friend, the only one I have let close enough to know who I am. He is funny, he is even crazy at times but best of all, he is an amazing father to two amazing girls who love him with all their hearts. He is also an amazing husband to his awesome wife who just happens to be one of my best friends. Thankfully, he is also an amazing cook which is kind of handy for all of us. He is the kind of guy who has restored my faith in the male of the species because before he came along, lets just say they weren't rating to well in my eye's. 

I guess it's fair to say that the majority of the friendships I formed over the years were formed with other girls. My first ever best friend who remains still my longest ever continuing friendship I met while I was living in a flat in Frankston. Not much good came out of living in Frankston for me other than this amazing friendship that has stood the test of time as well as withstood my marriage. Ruth moved in to the unit underneath mine and immediately we hit it off. I'm not sure exactly why our friendship grew as quick as it did, but it just did. Maybe it was because we were both country people living in the city or maybe it was my quirky sense of humour that won her over. Whatever it was, I'm so blessed to have this amazing beautiful soul in my life. 

As our friendship grew, we would hangout so much together that we finally decided to move into a 4 bedroom house together. Ruth had the top half of the house, while I took the back two bedrooms. Ruth's Sister lived in town as well which was awesome because every so often, Ruth's Niece and Nephew's would stay over with us. We would hangout together watching movies with the kids and eating snacks or doing fun things around the house like playing games. I remember our house was either filled with laughter, singing or both. Ruth was my soul mate, she was my best friend in the whole world and I loved her to death. It was never anything else than that because it would of ruined everything we had. We had a built up a level of trust with each other to know that we had each others back if we needed it. 

Ruth was actually the one who introduced me to the Salvation Army. A whole new world opened up to me after that. For the first time in my life, I actually felt accepted somewhere. To be fair, no one knew who I was, not even Ruth at the time because I was fearful of losing our bond. Sometimes after Church on a Sunday night, we would have some of the youth group back at our place to watch movies or just to fellowship with each other. We also had a bible study group at our house which was always a highlight of our week. A little off topic, but I remember driving around with Ruth one day in her car. Now I hated Spiders, and Ruth used to make a point of telling me how funny she thought it was that whenever I saw a spider, I would grab the fly-spray and continue spraying it till it resembled something like a Christmas snowflake. Well, this one day, I dropped down the.........I want to say sunshade (the thing with the mirror in it that also blocks the sun when your driving) and out fell a Spider. I immediately started screaming Spider. Ruth pulled over to the side of the road and we both jumped out vowing never to jump back in to the Spider moved out. 

There is so many Rutha stories I could talk about because they always stay in my mind and reminded me of an amazing time in my life where I felt finally accepted by someone. The day she told me that she was moving away, almost tore me apart. For memory I think I kind of acted like a bit of spoilt brat at the time. I mean I wanted to be happy for her, she was heading off to start a new chapter in her life and all I could think about was what was I going to do. As it turned out, i was going to be ok. I still had the Salvo's and a new house mate moved in. Not long after that, I met my future wife. 

The first time Maria met Ruth was awkward. Maria was already showing signs of being over possessive but she told me that she had been hurt before and I made allowances for her behaviour. It was like Maria was searching for any reason not to like her and she would dissect every thing she said desperately looking for justification for her feelings. Then the bombshell was dropped and Maria got what she wanted. At one point during the conversation the question was put to Maria, how old was she. Maria replied and Rutha said, "Awwwwww, your still only a baby." doing her best to lighten the mood and pay her a compliment at the same time. Sadly, Maria didn't see it this way and recounted to me over the years so many times how my best friend in the world called her a baby. 

Following that encounter the mere mention of the name Ruth around Maria would send plumes of smoke out of her ears. Sadly, we lost contact for a some time and I missed so much of her life due to Maria's petty jealousy. It wasn't until Ruth's 40th birthday when I was contacted by Ruth's Niece and her Sister to surprise Ruth at her party. I was so excited to hear from them after so long and although it knew it was going to be a tough sell with Maria, I was determined to go. 

The day of the actually party had arrived and we had been in discussions about the party but Maria was adamant that she wasn't going to attend a party where the guest of honour thought she was a baby.  I think in the end, pretty much told her that was the way she was acting and I just jumped in the car without a change of clothes and began the drive to Warnambool. I think that was the start of my rebellious streak. I met up with Ruth a few more times after that in similar circumstances destined not to let the best thing in my life go away again. I think my defiance in the end payed off in the end because in a strange twist of fate, Maria actually invited Ruth to my 40th the following year. 

Ruth and I and have remain in contact off and on over the years since. I had the absolute pleasure last year of attending her wedding to an amazing guy who I know makes her both happy and complete. Ruth has two amazing girls that have learnt their Mothers compassion and kindness and are continuing on forging their own paths in life. I couldn't be prouder of these three strong amazing women. 

Rutha and my friendship was the catalyst for me to find more friendships that eventually lead me to two other girls who I became close with who became the first to know my secret which started the unstoppable move to becoming Sharon.

Just Give Me A Lake To Look Upon (Part 6)

Saturday 9th June 2018

I think now would be a very good time to bring up the subject of depression. The following words may not be easy to read as it deals with a real life issue that affects suffers all over the world on a daily basis. Chances are that you or someone you may know has this insidious condition and unless you know what its like to experience it, its seriously hard to describe. It's important to note that anyone who has depression, has their own journey. Although journey's may follow similar paths at times, they all have their own destination. Some are lucky to find the light at the end of the tunnel sooner than others, while some journeys continue for years and at times it feels like you have reached the destination, only to be confronted by something else that drags you back. Sadly some don't reach their  destination at all. Some people just give every last bit of energy inside them, fight every battle that presents itself and as each one of those battles gets tougher and tougher, begin to feel that the journey is not worth continuing, that its just way to hard to keep going on like this trying to be so many things to so many people and feeling like you have nothing left for yourself because you given everything and neglected yourself in the process. 

Its kind of strange in a sense because growing up I always knew I was different from everyone else and struggled to find my place in the universe but was I sad? No, not really. I was living in the country and when things got to much for me, I just jumped on my bike and peddled off to find seclusion away from the rest of the world. Most of the time for me, that was a place called the Nhill lake. 

Nhill was a small country town halfway between Melbourne and Adelaide with a population of 2300. It had three amazing pubs and of course, it's biggest draw card, the Talking Horse. The horse was a big black statue of a horse standing on what could only be described as a mountain of rocks. It stood proudly in the main street and it's main purpose in life was to inform the many tourists that had stopped by looking for some respite from the drive between our two cities, some back ground information about our beautiful little town. Yes, for twenty cents you could hear all about how our town was built and put together with the help of this amazing horse. 

The word Nhill was derived from an Aboriginal word meaning Mist over Water. The towns name seemed somewhat appropriate as our winters were freezing cold and most mornings were spent waking up early to see how much our front lawn had frozen over and then running out to walk on it to leave our footprints behind on it. Ahhhh, the days before computers and Ipads when we had to make our own entertainment. Back in a time when a mere footprint left in a patch of grass would brighten my day if for only a short time. I actually remember a news story that appeared in our local paper about a tap that had been left on overnight in the park near the horse by chance. The tap had been photographed the next morning with a column of ice protruding from the tap itself, leading to the ground. Clearly a slow news day by most standards but in Nhill, it was the talk of the town. 

Nhill Lake was a beautiful little spot that had a trail that went right around the circumference of the lake itself. I would just head down there and pedal around it, find a quiet place, usually by a fallen log and just sit there looking out across the water. Sometimes I'd even take a fishing rod, not that I'd ever catch anything but it was nice to sit there with a purpose at times. Truth be told, if I ever caught a fish, I wouldn't know what to do with it so I always considered myself lucky that i never did while I was alone. Further truth, I had no chance of catching anything as I hated touching worms so I used spinners. The fish in Nhill lake were clearly blind because they never saw them. 

I guess, I have always been a bit of a dreamer. Thinking back to those much more simpler days of sitting by the log at Nhill lake to sitting here at my desk typing these words now, I have always dreamed of bigger and better things for myself. The reality is, I can be very lazy at times. I have these great big ideas on what I want to do and things I want to achieve, go crazy on it for a little while then think, whats the point, who's going to read this anyway? I have half written so many books over the years the same way. I have these awesome ideas for stories, sit down and write them then the insecurities creep in and I just give up. I guess for me, writing this has been a little different because it's almost happening in real time so when I see your views and feedback, I know people are reading this and maybe someone will find it interesting if not helpful in some way. 

The point of all that was to try and explain that although I was bullied at school and felt like I didn't fit in anywhere and I knew I was different didn't necessarily mean that my early years were filled with sadness. On the contrary, my years growing up in the country were some of my happiest moments spent on this earth. It wasn't until moving to the city that I began to realise how different I really was and how much I didn't fit in. The children at my new school had no qualms about pointing out my many flaws there. Now I didn't have the Nhill lake to pedal to, in fact I didn't have anywhere to go to that was anything like my lake. More and more I became more reclusive and really not wanting to go out anywhere. 

Acceptance into groups or anything was not an easy thing. I just never really fit in anywhere all the time knowing why, but being to scared to say anything knowing at the time, it was a totally different world and not one I would have given myself much chance in. When an organisation like the Salvation Army accepted me, it was the first time that I had actually felt apart of something. To be honest again, they didn't obviously know what they were accepting but to me at that time it was just what I needed to belong somewhere. They welcomed me in, gave me responsibility and purpose and most importantly, they loved me. 

I guess, thinking back now as I'm writing this, what I refer to along my journey as the black hole, has never been far away. I call it the black hole because that's what it feels like. I can feel it closing in on me and I'm running as fast as I can but little by little it keeps drawing me into the centre and once that happens I'm gone for undetermined amount of time. It might be a day or two or as long as a week to a  month. I try my best to hide it from the people I work with but when you are this person that spends most of the time jumping around like you have just overdosed on energy drinks to a person who is quiet and withdrawn and does her best not to make eye contact for fear of bursting into tears, its kind of noticeable after a while. 

The worst part about having depression is that when people ask me am I alright? Clearly I'm not but you try and shrug it off and say things like, "Yeah, I'm ok, maybe a little tired." it's because more often than not, I can't tell you whats wrong. I have no magic answer for why I didn't feel like getting out of bed this morning, I have no logical explanation for why while driving to work this morning, I burst into tears and nearly drove off the road and drove my car into a tree or off a bridge. There are so many days where I have woken up and asked God to take me away from this pain that I feel everyday. I remember a line from the movie Titanic that sums up the way I felt very well. "Sometimes I feel I'm in a room full of people screaming at the top of my lungs and no one is listening".

Those last fifteen years of my marriage was like that on almost a daily basis. I simply wanted to die, I couldn't take the lie I was living but felt trapped because I was told if I left, my family would be told about me, my work would be told about me. I was told that everyone would think that I was a freak with mental issues and everyone would reject me. My only saving grace at the time was my job. 

I can't tell you how many times my job has brought me back from the point of finishing my own journey and not reaching my destination. I can tell you now, the only thing that kept me alive was those kids. Arriving at work everyday and walking into my room and having a room full of kids running towards me screaming my name and all trying to get close enough for that first hug of the day. THAT KEPT ME ALIVE!!!

There were times when I used to say to my wife that I had to go over to the centre and catch up on some work on the weekend. I'd head over early in the morning and usually get back after dark. What was a doing for so long. Mostly sleeping on the couch in my room to avoid being at home in a toxic environment. I admit that I was pathetic, I was spineless and anything else you can think of. I had no self-esteem and certainly no self-respect. Every ounce of dignity had left me and I was only moving forward because of my kids. 

I tried to get help, I spoke to Doctors and seeked counselling and although they were more than happy to put me on a mental health plan and hand out Anti-depressants, the thing that would really help me, was never going to happen. They wanted my wife to come in to sit in on a session but to her, I was putting on the whole thing and looking for attention. She used to say, "I'm depressed, I don't need anything. Get over it". 

Please understand, this post is not about demonising my wife, its just about trying to give so prospective into my state of mind around that time in my life. I accept a lot of the responsibility because I know I wasn't easy to live with during this time. I spent most of my time skulking around, withdrawn and I suppose not a great deal of fun to be around so I can't blame her for everything. 

In the end, I discovered that I wasn't alone in my journey. I can 't stress this point strong enough. YOU'RE NOT ALONE. Living with Depression you feel like your the only one going through it and no one else will understand. Please let me stress this that it's so not true. There are many of us that live with this every single day with the only difference they find better ways to deal with it. My way of dealing with it was to talk about it a lot. To find people who you can trust and confide in and tell them how you feel and what you are going through. Never be ashamed to hide what you are feeling. I spoke about it to anyone who would listen and I didn't care if it was people at work, people online or a bunch of guests who came to my 40th Birthday party. 

The more I spoke about it, the easier things became and the more I realised that I wasn't alone. Before long I created a Facebook page dedicated to helping other people going through what I was going through. The group became a safe place for anyone to share what they were feeling and what they were going through and for them to know that there was always someone ready to talk with you day and night as their were members from all over.  

This post has been one of the hardest ones to write so far and have had numerous breaks while writing it because it has brought back a lot of memories. If it has stirred up anything or triggered your own memories, please click on one of the links that I will leave to below or feel free to contact me if you need to chat about anything I may of raised or touched on here. Most of all, Please remember that  YOU'RE NOT ALONE.

Sharon

My depression page.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/83358616350/

https://www.beyondblue.org.au/

https://www.lifeline.org.au/

https://www.suicidepreventionaust.org/

Words.........Don't come easy.

Sunday 3rd June 2018

Something I have always held in high regard is the written and spoken word. I learnt from an early age that I had a flair for writing and constructing stories using just my imagination and an idea. I used this to escape to an imaginary world to get away from the pain of the real world. Sadly, when it came to real conversation with real people, I lacked confidence and at times tried to fill the gaps in the conversation with humour. 

Sometimes this would work to overwhelming success and other times it would end up with me placing my foot in my mouth and completely embarrassing myself and more often than not, upsetting the person that I was conversing with. It's true that I have always considered myself a bit of social leper choosing to avoid social occasions at all costs to prevent any type of embarrassment arising. In hindsight, its amazing that I was even actually married because of how shy I was and still I am even now. 

I can recall a time when I was dating one of my first serious Girlfriends and we decided to go and visit her Uncle who was sadly losing his battle with cancer. He was bedridden sadly and I remember entering his room with my then Girlfriend and straight away I was overwhelmed by the sight in front of me. In my defence, it was the first time that I'd ever had to face someone actually in this condition and I just froze. I remember my Girlfriend telling her Uncle after he had asked how was her family going that everyone had been struck down with the flu. She was explaining that her Sister had been unwell for a few days and her Mother was showing signs of coming down with it also. My Girlfriend had just finished explaining to her Uncle that she had managed to avoid it so far and suddenly without warning I suddenly jumped into the conversation for the first time with, "Yeah, we're the only health ones around here at the moment". 

I remember her Uncle taking his glaze of his adoring Niece and looking up at this moron and saying "Lucky You". Instantly, I felt like trading places with this man and end my life there and then. I remember running out of his room and headed out of the back door and just broke down in tears thinking to myself, how could I be so bloody stupid. My Girlfriend came out and tried to reassure me that it was ok and that he knew that I never meant anything by it but in my eye's, it was far to late. 

There are so many other moments of me placing my foot in my mouth or having awkward conversations over the years. I try and say something funny to be apart of the conversation in someway and somehow end up disgracing myself in the process. Call it a lack of education or just a lack of social skills. I'm usually the one at parties hiding in the corner trying not to be noticed. 

 At least with the written word there is safety in that right? I mean I can read over that then edit it before I send it to the recipient. Yeah, you would think that wouldn't you, but sadly not the case where Sharon is involved. Yesterday I managed to embarrass myself all over again through text.  I'd sent a message to a new friend who really doesn't know me that well yet and in the process made a comment that, well in hindsight wasn't funny but it was more of a comparison to a situation that had happened earlier in my life. Needless to say, this wasn't the person to make this comment to and I deeply embarrassed myself in the process. The subject matter of my comment was far from funny and I should have known better considering who I am and what I stand for. 

Another thing about me that most people who know me know, that if I upset someone, it upsets me greatly. I stew on it and continue to dwell on it well after the event. I'm not sure why I do this because its seriously torture and over thinking the situation is not going to change things. Hopefully my new friend has moved on and has just written it off as a silly mistake. That's all I can hope for in the end. I can't promise that I will never say a stupid insensitive word again because it never starts off that way. Its just nervous words said in haste to try and fit in with a crowd of people who I have always struggled to fit in with. 

Give me Children any day, being an adult is hard work. 

Sharon