Day 1 down. I really hit a low point in the 5 days leading up to it, the panic attacks reaching that point where at one stage I considered going to the hospital for some sort of calm-the-fuck-down drug. Stupid brain.
It was fine. Of course my editor does not expect me to know the nuances of environmental law and policy in Australia but it still irks me that I don’t. Yeah I know. IDIOT.
Today I’m writing for a publication on risk management. I am looking at interlocutory decisions on a court case. I had to look up ‘interlocutory’. This could take some time.
Naturally this week has descended into some sort of mania – yesterday was work, kids gymnastics and an interminable combined school music concert. You know the drill, sitting through hours of sub-par performances and MC-ing by irritating over-achievers who over-annunciate every.single.word. reading the script written for them by Mr G
all to then see your musically gifted child on stage for all of 3min 47sec.
There was a recorder ensemble playing Mexican music. I mean, there should be laws.
I’m been steadily unravelling here for the last two weeks. Who would have thought that good things happening – winning some money, GETTING A JOB – would unleash the ocean of emotion I’ve been drowning in ever since.
For the last week it has ebbed and and then hurtled back knocking me for absolute six over and over again. I am constantly anxious – the pit in the stomach, the clenching of the jaw, the hard set shoulders, the internal monologue of keep it together man. The spontaneous bursting into tears. OH MY GOD the tears.
I have also been deeply pre-menstrual which is a whole “hello fire, I’m petrol” kinda thing.
And while the keep it together mantra has been the clanging cymbal, there’s been a whole percussive set going on underneath:
you’re not worthy
who do you think you are
you can’t do that
you’re not good enough
As IF you’re going to be able to pull this off
FRAUD
Do you know how exhausting that is? I can not even imagine what it is to live with. Chef’s bed shark is not even circling, that creature has found some secluded cave and is just hiding out until the crazy lady calms the fuck down.
Today Grover refused to get dressed. I begged, I cajoled, I used parental tones and eventually I just sobbed. Yep. SOBBED.
This morning I sobbed at last night’s Dr Who episode on iView. I’ve sobbed all day today actually. Stupid big heaving sobs that come from nowhere.
Except it’s not nowhere, it’s the core of my being. It’s my pure and utter fear of being vulnerable.
I’d seen these following two Ted lectures doing the rounds on FB and Twitter but never paid much heed as I don’t have time to sit and watch whole talks for goodness sake.
And then, today a friend – a friend I haven’t seen in years although she lives a few suburbs away, we used to work together a lifetime ago – sent them to me. She said, ‘you put everything out there but don’t see how courageous that makes you.’ She said, ‘maybe you should watch the shame one first’. She’s a smart cookie.
So I’m going to say this and quit rolling your eyes. FIND the two lots of 20 minutes you’re going to need to watch these. FIND IT.
Key points that really resonated for me:
Vulnerability is not weakness.
Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity, innovation and change.
I didn’t learn about vulnerability and courage and creativity and innovation from studying vulnerability, I learnt it from studying shame.
Be in the arena.
Dare greatly.
Shame is the gremlin which says you’re not good enough and who do you think you are.
Shame is not guilt. Shame is a focus on self, guilt is a focus on behaviour. Shame is I am bad, guilt is I did something bad
Shame is highly correlated with addiction, depression, violence, aggression, bullying, suicide, eating disorders
Guilt is inversely correlated with those things
Shame is do it all, do it perfectly and never let them see you sweat.
Shame for women is the swag of unobtainable, conflicting and competing expectations on who we are meant to be.
For men it’s about being weak.
Empathy is the antidote to shame
Secrecy, silence and judgement grow shame
Connection.
The whole-hearted – those with a sense of worthiness, a strong sense of love and belonging believe they’re worthy of love and belonging.
A sense of courage (is not bravery) its original definition meant to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.
The whole-hearted have the courage to be imperfect.
The whole-hearted have compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others. We can’t practice compassion with others if we don’t treat ourselves kindly.
Connection as a result of authenticity. They were willing let go of who they thought they should be for who they are.
Vulnerability.
They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. It’s not comfortable or excruciating, they just talked about it being necessary. About saying I love you first. To do something where there are no guarantees. To not control or predict.
Vulnerability is the core of shame, fear and struggle for worthiness but it’s also the birthplace of joy, creativity, belonging and love.
Our job as parents is to look at our kids and say you know what, you’re imperfect and you’re wired for struggle, but you’re worthy of love and belonging. That is our job.
Love with your whole heart even when there are no guarantees
In Australia there is this marvellous political construct called COAG – the Council of Australian Governments. It’s meant to promote policy reforms which are “of national significance or need coordinated action by all Australian governments”. In reality it is a stoush. A chance for state and territory premiers and chiefs to prance and preen and belly-ache about lack of money, favouritism or lack thereof and so on and so forth. It meets once or twice a year and yesterday’s gathering was to advance the National Disabilitpy Insurance Scheme. This is a great 10 point document to tell you what the NDIS is and why we need it.
In brief the NDIS is about establishing a Medicare type scheme which would provide a secure and consistent pool of funds for services and supports to the disabled rather than the existing system where there is an annual budget allocation which is never enough and always runs out.
It reframes support to one of investment rather than one of charity.
It places timely intervention and appropriate aids, equipment, training and development as equal investment in an individual’s capacity rather than welfare.
It recognises that disability is for a lifetime. It looks not just at the individual’s needs now but over their lifetime. For example, you’re profoundly disabled? So you’ll need a wheelchair, ramps, a modified vehicle, a hoist for getting in and out of bed, on and off the toilet, in and out of the shower, on and off the lounge. Right, let’s get that sorted as you are a human being with rights and to not have those things is not acceptable in a civilised society. OH, you’re now 10/15/20/40/OLDER so you’ll need a bigger wheelchair, your transport needs may have changed, an adult hoist/bed etc – let’s update your equipment.
At the moment all of that is in the hands of the family. And if you miss this year’s funding allocation for a bed that can be raised or lowered? Well, you can raise your own funds, go to a charity or just wait.
And you can do that every single time your child grows out of their equipment.
Perhaps you have a highly autistic child or maybe you’re like Oscar with a moderate intellectual disability but relatively mobile and highly social? Well, you need time with your peers and activities just like any other person your age. On top of that, your unique circumstances mean your mum or dad or carer need some time out. Some time to recharge the batteries and just live for a few hours without the pressures of being the whole world to an individual dependent on you for just the most basic of human functions.
Well you can now ring around, ask others, chance upon some respite services in your area but they only do an intake once a year so your name can go on a wait list for the following year but don’t hold your breath because there’s a big cohort of kids moving up from the primary school group to the high school group and there won’t be any spots unless someone moves out of area.
And on and on it goes.
Having a disability in Australia makes you a second class citizen. FOUR millions Australians have a disability. That’s roughly the population of Melbourne. Then there are the 2.6 million Australians who care for family members with a disability. We’re now looking at the population of Victoria.
Now wrap your head around this cold hard fact:
ALMOST HALF OF THOSE WITH A DISABILITY IN AUSTRALIA LIVE IN POVERTY OR VERY CLOSE TO IT.
In Australia if you are born with a disability or become disabled at some stage during your life you will be pushed to the periphery of its society. You will be forced to look for charity for basic needs in coping with that disability. You will, in light of all this, be punished for being disabled.
People with a disability and their families currently pay a price for disability in the form of social and economic exclusion and a massive lack of choices.
Way to go Australia.
The Productivity Commission report into establishing an NDIS made the very salient point that yes, the NDIS will cost a lot BUT – the overall economic benefits are likely to exceed scheme costs by facilitating economic and social participation by people with a disability and those caring for them.
Imagine that – your provide the additional support to those who need it and low and behold they become functioning members of the community rather than a drain on it. GO FIGURE.
Ironically as state governments cried poor in failing to support and instigate NDIS trials at COAG yesterday, they are staring down the barrel of an economic crisis in the disability sector. The number of people with a disability is rising, someone is diagnosed with a disability every 30 minutes in Australia, while the number of people willing and able to offer unpaid support is falling. The cost of that? To governments? MASSIVE.
So they have a choice. They can wear the massive costs of having a cohort of their population desperately needing resources, not getting them and therefore not able to function in the society OR they can chip in, develop a scheme that empowers and enables that cohort to then have those people able to contribute.
Yesterday there was such an opportunity for our elected leaders to stand up and say, this is important, this must happen, let’s make it happen. Instead they played politics and through their actions – or lack thereof – showed their true colours.
I have moved through incredulity and anger and am now just sad. I despair, truly I do.
There are one hundred and eleventy gagillion recipes for spinach and ricotta pie. Duyvken recently made a version that I have been valiantly trying to recreate ever since – it was not as spinachy as normal and so so simple. The picture below is a variation on her recipe. I, of course, couldn’t help varying it. I added too much stuff to it and while it was delicious if you want a oozy creamy concoction then follow the basic recipe.
In the picture below there is also 2 shallots, kernels from 1 cob of corn, several sprigs of mint and dill.
pretty AND nutritious
Spinach and ricotta pie
8 sheets filo
melted butter
1kg ricotta
1 large bunch silverbeet, washed, cut finely
2 egg yolks
1/2 tsp nutmeg
salt and pepper
1/2 cup parmesan, grated
poppyseeds
Preheat the oven to 180C
Brush 4 sheets of the filo with melted butter and line a baking dish
Combine the ricotta, silverbeet, 2 egg yolks, cheese and seasonings then tip into the filo
Brush the remaining filo with butter and place on top of the filling
Brush the top of the final sheet with butter and scatter over poppyseeds
Bake for 40 minutes or until nice and golden and a knife inserted in the middle of the pie comes out nice and hot.
Well, not really just like that. A friend had a job and then got a new job so she put my name forward for her old job.
I did a trial last week – two stories in a day. Well, half a day as I had canteen duty at Oscar’s school on the same day. You should have seen the s.t.a.t.e. I worked myself into.
Seriously.
I am the valedictorian of self-doubt and failure fear. It is actually ridiculous and I hate it. You know that whole philosophy that we repeat negative behaviours for a reason, that they serve a purpose. I don’t buy it. I HATE how I talk myself down. I have no idea why I do it – the perfectionist in me? The need to have everyone like me? To not let anyone down? I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. I think it’s just my go to resting state and it is doing my freaking head in.
The gig is with Thomson Reuters working on two of their environmental industry newsletters and one on risk management. A five day fortnight.
This changes our lives. I am SO excited about that. And proud. Proud that something I am doing is digging us out of this hole.
I am desperately trying to focus on the good – I am excited but I am also shit scared. My anxiety is running at around a 7-8 on a scale of 1 being dead and 10 being the demonic bunnies. I know I will be fine. Good at it even. I know I just need to get started and it will fine. It’ll be fine! But at the moment I really want to stop feeling sick and panicky.
