i raise you upwin and i fucked up

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Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.edenland: The Myriad Of Ways In Which I Am Not Fucked Up.
Myriad - THERE'S a word.
A lot of us are our own worst enemies so I thought I'd share a few examples where I'm not fucked up. You're probably not as fucked up as you think either so maybe you can count up your myriadness too if you like. Probably do us the world of good.
Slowly learning at the end of a hard day that I'm still here, I still rose like the sun, and I did my best. Even if my best was shit - I still did SOMETHING.
& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & Parramasala Slam 2014, owned it, won it.
I slam poetry down quicker than those guys in the 80's VB ads slammed down their cans. The word "poetry" has negative connotations but slam poems are political firestorms of machine-gun words in quick succession. It's hip-hop music without the music, just lyrics. I've been asked to headline a poetry slam next month and I've already built a bigger boat for the words in my head.
The art of not giving a fuck and actually giving a fuck is an art I'm practicing. We must give a fuck about the RIGHT things, and not give a fuck about the WRONG things. A give-a-fuck tightrope walk, if you will.
I'm an extraordinary, loving mother to my kids. Put my hand up when I haven't coped. I've parented so well and so hard for 16 years, starting from the year 2000 when my (step)son came to live with us at age 8. I did courses on how to be a better mother. I slogged my heart and guts and soul out to make sure they are ok and felt loved and secure and stand up for themselves and not be bullies or arseholes or meek. I have failed as a mother, I have shone as a mother, and everything in between. Currently watching the last season of Nurse Jackie. In the first episode she puts makeup on and walks into the bar her husband owns which they used to own together but everything is his now she's cool with that. He was serving drinks to customers and she politely spoke to him about seeing her two daughters and he said she couldn't see her two daughters because he didn't think she could be trusted because of previous transgressions of which she is fixing, fixing. He says flat-out no and goes to give another beer to a customer sitting at the bar.
Nurse Jackie didn't give a fuck who was in the bar, who heard, who thought what about her causing any kind of scene. She shouted at her ex in front of everybody that she WILL see her girls, do NOT start this shit Kevin, or he won't know what hit him. She was fury. Said her piece, walked out. And eventually saw her girls in the next episode and hugged them so tight, cooked the wrong thing for dinner, the youngest asked what Jackie's two days in jail were like did she have to poop in front of other people? Her eldest was wary, resigned, but very clearly had missed her flawed mother. Called her mother unreliable, called her on her bullshit, told her to face exactly what she thought. Nurse Jackie, after everything, was still afforded the time and respect from her girls.
I'm feeling you Daryl but your brother isn't coming back. Time moves on and we live with the empty gaping unfillable hole. Ironic that it's called "loss" when loss never goes away, it's here to stay. (It's personally taken me three years and one month to reach a level of acceptance I never ever thought was possible but it IS which means all things from here on in are possible. All. Things.)
Did I hit Melbourne airport last Monday afternoon in terror thinking oh my god I have made a huge error of judgement whose dumb idea was this how will I stay at
house for three days I DON'T STAY AT PEOPLES HOUSES. But she zooms in and picks me up from the airport and it was only weird for a few hours until I settled in to join a quite extraordinary family Indian meal where everybody talked and laughed over the dinner table and everybody listened to what everybody else had to say. Laughter and love and wow. I should have done that been that worked on that for fifteen years MISTAKES WERE MADE.
Finally met Berry, the editor of Dumbo Feather Magazine. She spoke, the CEO of Greenpeace Australia also spoke, then I spoke/laughed/cried/swore/apologised told everyone how I gave a copy of the issue to my sons to read, way too dark but this is who their mother is. Berry is *insert incredible adjective here* Afterwards Nathalie and I found a boutique eatery whose food exists ENTIRELY OF CHEESE. Omg. First time in my life I've eaten non-Kraft mac'n'cheese fancy like Iggy hell yes.
This is who I am. Who I am is ok. Who I am is ok. Who you are is ok. Keep saying it until we believe it. Who we are is ok. It's ok. And when it's not we work until it's ok again.
(COMMENTS STILL OFF I'M SO SORRY BUT THERE'S TOO MUCH BILE BEING WRITTEN IN THERE LATELY SO NO, YUCKY PEOPLE. You don't get a say. If you want a yucky say email me
with subject line "HATE" and I'll file it in emails marked "never to be read." Thanks.)
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