My TWLOHA Story!

Warning: If your'e not in a good place right now, bookmark this page and read it when you are feeling stronger as it may trigger you. Thanks.

So today is World Suicide Prevention Day! 

Suicide is something I've had a bit to do with in my adult life and I've been reflecting on it today as I've watched a doco on Foxtel about it, and of course, it's been all over Facebook!

I have so many thoughts on suicide - some that contradict each other. But let's start with some facts:

Each year 65,000 Australians attempt to take their own lives (There are on average 130,000 total deaths per year in Australia) – of these attempts – Australia loses approximately 2,500 loved ones.

Nearly all suicides are preventable. This World Suicide Prevention Day, take the time to learn about suicide, recognise the signs and help to reduce the stigma associated with help-seeking – you may save a life one day.

http://www.wspd.org.au/ (World Suicide Prevention Day)

I have seen suicide from two sides of the coin - from attempting a number of times, to the other side where I am what some call a 'Suicide Survivor' - being a person affected by someone else's suicide.

So, for me, I had severe severe depression and before it was actually diagnosed as being Bipolar, I was in the darkest place imaginable. Years later, I was told by some hospital staff who had seen and supported me through that time, that I was someone with the severest depression they had ever seen and to this day they are stunned I am still alive.

I had 5 years of that horrible dark depression and throughout that time I was hurting myself a lot. I was a 'hardcore self injurer'. One time I injured myself so badly that I almost died and needed blood transfusions.

That was accidental. My suicide attempts were not.

Many say that attempting suicide (su for short) is a way to get attention. Sometimes I agree with that but I also know it's not just about a cry for help.

When you are in such a deep darkness sometimes the only way to find the light is to reach for it with a knife, or by jumping or swallowing something. When you feel so incredibly hopeless that there is literally no other option that you can see, it's easy to think that ending this life is an option.

I remember that feeling. I felt like there was always a constant scream stuck in my throat. No matter who I went to for help, that scream, silent though it was, just kept getting bigger. My mind would get fuzzy, my thoughts confused, the lack of light in my life just blacker and blacker. 
I would turn to people and them, not understanding my desperation would palm me off, dismissing my pain and anguish as 'not that bad'.

If it really wasn't that bad, how come I couldn't pull myself out of it? No matter how hard I tried. I went to intensive counselling once a week. I went to my psychiatrist and psychologist once a week. I saw my pastor two-three times a week and yet the darkness wouldn't budge.

There were times when I wanted to end it - not for good, but just to quiet down my head. To still the thoughts and bad voices just for a few minutes. Can you imagine, really imagine what it's like to have voices (thoughts) yelling at you constantly saying things like: "You're so pathetic", "You're bad", "You deserve the things that have happened to you", "God has given up on you so why don't you give up?" and it went on and on.

I remember three times when I attempted suicide - by various methods which Im not going into here Well, those times, in hindsight, were more a cry for help. I felt that I was just a nuisance to so many people and yet I was desperately trying to keep my head above water in the stormy seas of my life and really not succeeding. 

I remember one time, a doctor in emergency who was pumping my stomach after an overdose as I was going in and out of consciousness, like a far away voice, telling me that if I *really* wanted to kill myself I should have taken such and such drugs. Idiot! Maybe he thought I was so out of it that I wouldn't know what he was saying. But of course, it was the one thing I heard and so I began stockpiling!

Another time, I remember trying so hard and nothing would happen and me being so incredibly angry that it wasn't working. I always took an easy way out - and now I think it's because I didn't want something truly permanent as I just want help.

The one time I was deathly serious about it? 

I was at church. I remember telling myself it was the last time I would have Holy Communion.... but should I have it knowing what I was gonna do at home? It was my final goodbyes to those I loved. The ones I couldn't see that night, I composed letters too. It was actually very ritualistic, the whole night. I remember thinking that I was gonna confront Jesus (assuming I went to heaven) and ask him why he had let all these bad things happen to me. And I remember my joy and excitement - yes, real and genuine excitement, that I would see my dad who had passed away when I was 17. I remember being happy, and relieved that I had finally made the decision to really go. I was looking forward to getting home so I could put my plans into action and be o my way to my real home!. 

I was deadly serious!

The 'problem' was. One of the pastors clicked that something was up and stopped me.... just in time. I remember being soooo angry. So cheated! And that scream in my throat overwhelmed me.

I had so many strategies to try when I felt suicidal. Not many helped.... although this one did, sort of: I had some very supportive amazing friends at the time who gave me a photo of their 4 kids. They were like little brother and sisters to me. They said "Imagine what we would have to tell the kids if you succeeded. Every time you want to do this, look at this photo and think of their faces and how they will feel". It was hard but it was one strategy that helped me hold off.

The one thing I have learnt since that time, is that when you are truly determined, you keep it to yourself. Each of the other times I attempted, I let people know  - so I could be rescued. But that one time. I thought I was so careful in HOW I said my goodbyes to not let anyone realise. But this guy knew me too well. And now, Im glad he did. Because I wouldn't be sitting here writing to you to help you understand this side of the suicide coin.

Im not condoning this kind of behaviour. I have learnt there are other ways of dealing with things. But when you are truly in that dark space and there really seems no other options, I completely understand why people make this decision.

On the other hand.....

Having been 'in the mental health system' for years, I have seen a few dear friends succeed where I did not. And it's so sad. I often think that if they had just hung on that little bit longer, maybe there would have been a spark of hope that captured their hearts and kept them grasping on.

My nephew's dad ended his life when my nephew was 3 (he's now 15). I barely knew him. I've had limited contact with my sister, but my heart used to cry in such anguish when my dear 6 year old nephew would tell me his dad killed himself when he was 3. What 6 year old needs to even KNOW that? I often wonder how my nephew copes without his dad. Does he feel like me, where every birthday, every Christmas, every Father's day just feels bleak without that father figure there? My dad died from heart disease, but his died bc he wanted too. I just think of all the lost memories between him and my dear nephew. It breaks my heart.

Probably the person closest to me that attempted suicide (and thankfully did not succeed) was a past boyfriend. He also has mental health issues and it was in the first 6 months of our 4 year relationship. Just around Christmas time. I was staying at his place, he was in a really bad space and even though I had gone to bed, he was still up. Next thing I knew, it was early morning and he had crashed into the room where I was sleeping and literally dropped onto me. I will never forget the feeling of being woken to find your bf unconscious.

I remember slapping his face trying to wake him up. I remember ringing the ambulance and then racing upstairs to his folks (they lived on the floor above him) to tell them what had happened and bc I was, to put it plainly, freaking out! 

I can still hear his dad say "Oh no, not again!". The next hour was a bit of a blur. They wouldn't let me come to the hospital bc my foot was in plaster and I was soooo frustrated. I was frustrated bc his family's attitude was so blaze - their opinion was, he was just doing it for attention and he's done it before, he'll keep doing it again and again. I was soooo incredibly angry at them. 

My opinion, is that no matter WHY a person tries to end their life, something has happened in their head to think there is no other way out. They need to be supported not left to fend for themselves. I spent days upon days at the hospital with him. First in the main hospital while he recovered and then in the psych ward while his mind was still in mass confusion.

I have to admit though, after a few days the anger set in for me. I was sooo angry at him for doing this to me. Why now? Why the night I was there? Was it because of me? I had so many questions and for the first time I could see why people said suicide is the coward's way out. I fact, that phrase 'Coward's way out', makes me confused. I totally think that way but then I remember those feelings, and it didn't feel cowardice at all - it felt relief to leave behind all the crap.

There are times when I think about that night with my then-boyfriend even now, when I feel little surges of anger that he did what he did - however, my anger is mixed with compassion bc clearly, I have been in that place - many times. For him, it was a cry for help, as he left a list of the medications he had taken - and to be honest, the dosages were not lethal at all. But it didn't stop the fact that he wanted out of this life. It didn't change the fact that he truly thought it was finished for him. It also didn't change the fact, that no matter how *I* felt, what was important was supporting HIM. Being there for HIM. And doing what HE needed in order to recover and move forward in his life. It's hard to stay angry at someone when you can see their point of view.

Now, I want to take you back to the top of this post. From the website link - 

All Suicide IS Preventable.

It might not feel like it and it is definitely not an easy road, but there are always places you can go, people to reach out to, places where you will be listened too. You don't need to go down this road. It's an awful, bumpy, dark road that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Find a counsellor/therapist; a psychologist; a pastor; a mentor; a trusted friend or even your GP. Tell them what is going on in your head. Make sure you don't leave without telling them you have these destructive thoughts. Visit websites, find online support groups (these literally kept me alive at times). Visit community health centres. There IS help available. It just takes a bit of work finding it.

If you are not the person who is feeling like ending your life, but someone who is affected bc of someone else - a 'suicide survivor', you will also have so so many thoughts and feelings that need to be processed in a healthy way - you too, need to see someone professionally. That doco I watched today said that people who are 'survivors' are 9 times more likely to die from suicide than the general population. That is pretty scary if you ask me.

So please, I implore you, if this post has touched you and made your heart beat faster bc it's about you, go find someone to talk too. Talk to ME if you have too. Leave a comment and a way I can find you. Comments on here don't go public without my permission so if you need to, leave your email address or Facebook name. Ill find you.

There was a movement started a few years ago - one that I am an avid supporter of: To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA). This is what their facebook page says:

To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for those struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery. 

And from their actual website:

The vision is that we actually believe these things…

You were created to love and be loved.  You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story.  You need to know that your life matters.

We live in a difficult world, a broken world.  My friend Byron is very smart - he says that life is hard for most people most of the time.  We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments.  You need to know that you're not alone in the places you feel stuck. 

We all wake to the human condition.  We wake to mystery and beauty but also to tragedy and loss.  Millions of people live with problems of pain.  Millions of homes are filled with questions – moments and seasons and cycles that come as thieves and aim to stay.  We know that pain is very real.  It is our privilege to suggest that hope is real, and that help is real. 

You need to know that rescue is possible, that freedom is possible, that God is still in the business of redemption.  We're seeing it happen.  We're seeing lives change as people get the help they need.  People sitting across from a counselor for the first time.  People stepping into treatment.  In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline.  We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take.  We want to say here that it's worth it, that your life is worth fighting for, that it's possible to change. 

Beyond treatment, we believe that community is essential, that people need other people, that we were never meant to do life alone. 

The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.  

The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles. 

The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world.

The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.

The vision is better endings.  The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships.  The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love.  The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise.  The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change.  

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead.  

The vision is the possibility that we're more loved than we'll ever know.  

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story.

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/towriteloveonherarms/info

Website: http://www.twloha.com/

So the above picture is my TWLOHA effort for today. I placed the word LOVE over some of the scars on my wrist. In the very place, I tried to take my own life. Love really did replace that darkness with Hope.

On another Facebook event, we were encouraged to light a candle in the window in memory of those who have passed on, and those struggling with it now. The candle at the top and bottom of my post are the candles *I* lit. It was actually a healing thing for me to do, given all my 'experience' with suicide.

Lastly, I just wanted to share with you how I came out of my darkness.

It all lies in the word HOPE!

I honestly and truly believe that without hope life is dead anyway. I got my hope back from my heavenly Father. I was able to grasp hold of His hand when it got too hard by listening to the people He placed in my life. The wise people that supported me through my darkness. He helped me develop a support network of people that I couldn't trust, when I couldn't trust HIM!
I know there are probably many of you who don't share my faith but if you are struggling, I would urge you to give Jesus a go. Because it's through him that we have hope.

Lots of heartfelt love
L xo

Some other links for you to check out:

World Suicide Prevention Day 2012
http://www.wspd.org.au/

Out of the Shadows (Lifeline)
http://www.outoftheshadows.org.au

Self Injury: You Are Not the Only One
http://www.palace.net/llama/selfinjury/

Light a Candle FB page
http://www.facebook.com/events/216775405117051/220798328048092/?comment_id=220813171379941&notif_t=event_mall_reply

Sane Australia
http://www.sane.org/

A Fantastic Result!!!!

Well friends, today was my first Action Plan Review Meeting with my boss. It was a one on one meeting with her and Im proud to say it went fantastically.


The point of an Action Plan review is to of course review the action plan we set up with my 'tween' (mentor-ee) before we started working together.


WHAT is an Action Plan? It is a set of goals that the Mentor and mentor-ee are to work towards in a specific time. In relation to my work here at Panyappi, the point of our work is to reintegrate the teens back into their communities - whether it be a family, sports club, or whatever kind of community. Bc a lot, in fact most, of our clients are in the justice system, it means trying to teach the kids a new way of viewing the world; a new way of spending their time. Helping them learn about responsibility, choices, consequences. Im really excited as this is the kind of thing I am all about.


I have struggled a little the last two weeks with my tween as she hasn't wanted to do the things we had planned. It makes it really hard finding things to do when she has no idea what she feels like doing. Last week I showed her the Hungry Jacks app and we went to three different Hungry Jacks just to see what we could get for free. Kinda fun and silly, but it passed the time.


So, back to today. The feedback I have received has been glowingly positive which is just wonderful and I left feeling all warm and fuzzy! 


I love working with Panyappi. I was reflecting on it today with my boss. It feels like a whole new home. It seems like I have been there for years. It gives me a sense of belonging like nothing else I have had. I guess it's the feeling of being with 'my own people'. As I have never grown up in the aboriginal community I guess I never knew what I was missing. It has only been when I have been around other indigenous people that I have felt completely 'whole'. And that is the feeling I get with my co-workers. As a bonus, all of them are incredibly open and welcoming. My boss puts herself on our level even though she is the Panyappi supervisor. She is incredibly aware of our and my limitations (and the fact Im a bit green) and eases us all into the roles we are employed for. An extremely considerate boss if you ask me!


Next week our school holiday programme begins. I am working 4 days of the programme. Exhausting but sooooooo much fun!


Just goes to show that God really DOES provide for me in ways I never even imagined!!!!


So, that's all for today! I just wanted to share a relatively short (for me) fun positive little post for you today. 


Love 
L xo

The 'Persecuted' Sunflower?

Hey there guys, it's been a while (again).

I just wanted to write about something that I believe has been happening to me of late.

Persecution! 

What is it? 

It's not something you hear about much these days. The way I understand persecution is that it is when you are bullied/attacked/killed/etc because of your faith.

Why do I think this has happened to me and what do I think of it?

Well, a few weeks ago I was incredibly bullied on Facebook (yes, I hear you all sigh and ready to launch into the arguments about FB). A person who I knew in real life  (but not well, I thought we were developing a friendship) had a problem with me but never spoke to me about it. 

Instead, she decided to delete me (no problem) but then went on to publicly slander me, accusing me of cyber bullying HER all because I was trying to support and encourage a new friend. This happened in a group we are both in where we have at least 30 mutual irl friends.

Now I understand that people interpret things differently to how they are often intended - and I believe this woman did that. She seems to be someone who has quite a few issues as well as going through some incredible grief and I can understand she is probably lashing out and attacking people as a way to deal with the loss of someone very close to her.
I tried to ask her via private email a number of times what her issues were with me only to have the question never answered. Part of what she did tell me was that she was sick of my crap on FB. As I have no idea what she meant and as I have been incredibly positive on FB the last three or four months, I deduced the 'crap' was one of four different things. The only things I really post about nowadays:

a) My faith, which I am pretty vocal about. I don't ram it down other's throats but I love to share when something awesome happens with me and God.
b) My brother, who I am incredibly proud of for all the growing he has been doing this year.
c) Scrapbooking - which SHE is a part of so I can't imagine it's that
d) My new job mentoring teenagers.

As she never gave me any indication as to which one of these her problems lie, the more I pray about it, meditate on it and speak to close friends about it, I can only come up with ONE answer.

That answer is that she can't handle seeing my 'God posts. One thing I haven't mentioned is that she is a non-believer. She has asked at times on her own status things like "Why does God allow bad things to happen to good ppl?" I, of course, understanding perhaps where the qu stems from, tried to answer as gently and compassionately as I could.

So anyway, now onto the real point of this pondering post.

The entire incident with this woman had left me raw, hurt, angry, wanting revenge, and many other emotions. I guess the biggest one though, was genuine confusion. How could somebody who I believed to be an honest, open up-front person BE so nasty to me when I have never done anything to her?

It really rocked me to my core. It caused me to doubt who I am in the deepest parts of me. It had me questioning every single person and their motives of me in that craft community. I know she has her little 'posse' who also have deleted me and not even told me why. I know that it's bc of this 'thing' between her and I, and while it hurts, I look at the kind of ppl they are - lovely ppl, but their believes and values are polar opposite to mine. They are just not the kind of people I need in my life. People who I believe in the long term would be unhealthy for me.

So, once a friend told me - in a beautiful gentle visual story, to grow up and move on, I started to see things in a different light. Actually, I had juuust begun looking at it differently when she sent me this story but she was the kick up the butt I needed.

As I stopped being angry, I began to see that this isn't even about me. I honestly and truly believe that this is actually between this lady and God and that I was just the physical thing that was 'attackable'. Because let's face it, when you don't believe in someone, it's really really hard to be angry at them so you look for something else to let your anger out on.

As soon as I realised it wasn't me but God who was being attacked, a LOT of the hurt and anger went away. And you know what? It actually started to make me feel kinda cool.

Why you ask? Well, the devil is soooo mad right now that I am having some breakthroughs between me and my God, and he HATES that and so he does things to throw my whole little universe into chaos.I am making him so angry bc he knows that he has no power in my life and he will do ANYthing to make me suffer.

On a more human level, I look at it in the context of the book of Acts in the bible. Jesus' apostles were all martyred because of their faith. I am definitely not saying Im about to be killed, lol. But it does say a few times in the bible that especially in the end of times, the saints will be persecuted for their faith. 

"Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Matt 5:10

 In another way, I can also say, this isn't about the woman and Me, it's about me and God and OUR relationship as He obviously was trying to teach me something here. And honestly, the more I think about it all, hear God's calling in my life, utilise the wisdom of the people he has placed there for me, I can see that this entire thing is a good thing - it has made me go to him more. It's opened me up to whatever God has planned for me. It has reconfirmed (yet again) that I am doing ok.

It was never about her and me. It was all about the eternal war between good and evil, heaven and hell, God and Satan.

If I am being 'persecuted' bc someone doesn't like me, then my only hope is that God is shining more brightly than before and that His spirit in me can not be contained but is spilling over and touching others. 

I understand how confronting that can be for some. For me, it's so exciting. And now most of my hurt and anger is gone and I am back to living in the confidence of my Lord. 

Don't get me wrong, I am still human and at times I still smart over her horrible false words, but now I have a way out of the hurt. I just crawl up into my Holy Father's lap, have a cuddle and maybe a cry and remember that it's for Him I'm experiencing this. And that can only be a good thing can't it? I think so!

"The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted as worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name" Acts 5:41

I am worthy! And so are you!

L xoxoxo


Disclaimer: Please don't leave comments saying that I shouldn't share this story and that I need to move on. I had many people telling me I 'should' or 'should NOT' be doing many things where this story is concerned on FB - this blog is not seen by many of the people who know about it irl, and this is the way I express myself. If you don't like what I've written, or think I should have kept it to myself, look at WHY I have shared what I have shared. It is not about slandering this girl back. It's not about getting 'my side' out there in my defence. It's not even about changing people's minds. This blog is about a wonderful lesson God has taught me over the last month and a half. Please take it the way it was intended to be read. 
;)
L xo


Just a second note: Somehow this girl *did* see this post and wrote some pretty awful things in the comments section. Again, I was not writing this to hurt you! Please see it as my way of having a voice, and sharing the wonderful things that God can do when a person is obedient to him. :)

Mixed Bag of a Day!!!!

I promised a few of my friends that I would next write about my experiences of last night's streetwork shift..... but seeing as it's Mother's Day, I wanted to write out my feelings about it.

This isn't meant to offend anyone, just my mixed up thoughts on a  day that can be really difficult as so many ppl so publicly celebrate their mothers.

So, a 'quick' history: I grew up in foster care bc my real dad was too sick to look after me and my brother and bc my real mother abused us terribly. It was so bad that by the time we were 2 (being twins) we were removed permanently from her and placed into care. So my very first experiences of mothering were not the best.

Next we were in and out of foster homes for two years until we were placed in a Lutheran  children's home. I don't remember much of that home as I was three/four, but I do remember the mother there. She was a Pastor's wife and so lovely. We called her Aunty E.

After the children's home came our long term placement in the Adelaide Hills. We lived with a couple who had children almost grown. Their youngest of three was in year 12 when we came along. (Mike and I were never separated). So, this home on a farm was where we stayed. It was a wonderful childhood of playing, riding bikes, making BMX tracks, building cubby houses out of hay bales, helping get the sheep in, getting so dirty the bottom of the bath wud be mud! We called our foster parents Aunty M and Uncle K. M told me as a young adult that we came home from school one day when we were about 7 years old and cheerfully announced together "We can call you mum because you're our foster mum". And mum and dad they were from then on.

It was always easy to tell if we were talking about them or our real parents. Our foster parents were mum and dad. Our biological parents were our 'real dad' or 'real mum'. However in later years we could NEVER (and still can't) refer to our biological mother as mum so she just became HER! (She has never earned the right to be called mother in my books.)

So the sunny days of our childhood were wonderful - but interspersed were dark days too. Days where our real mother - aka HER, would send private detectives to our primary school so that the police would be called. The birthdays and Christmases every single year without fail where she would put notices in the papers - Advertiser, Courier and Leader, telling the world in literally columns, how 'the government stole her kids'. Or "MISSING: My darling TWINS" Even though she knew exactly were we were. The harassment we got from kids in high school was awful. Bullying wasn't such a well known phenomenon back then.

The sour icing on the bitter cake that is my real mother, was when I was 12. My half sister (Bella, who had come to live with us when she was 11) and I had been playing junior tennis while mum was with Mike at his team's games. The deal every week was to meet at the P.O of our little town. Sometimes we went across the road to my foster-brother-in-law's-grandparents (who we called grandma and grandpa) and waited with them for mum to pick us up. So on this one day we went over and helped them prune the front garden having a lovely old time. They were such lovely older people and treated us like u would wish every grandparent to teat you.

I remember looking across the road at the post office. There was this woman in very distinctive clothing, and trailing behind her was her canvas shopping trolley. The old school version of the ones you see nowadays. But back then, NOONE in the hills had them so as soon as I saw it I was so sure it was HER.

I whispered to my sister "Bella, it's HER"

"Don't be stupid, how wud she even get here?" She couldn't drive!

"But it iiiiiisss!" Said I, getting frantic and bursting into tears.

And before we knew it she was opening the gate and walking right up to me shoving a photo of myself (school photo from about 3 years earlier) under my nose asking me in her horrible thick distinctive German accent if I knew this girl. Can you imagine the bizarre feeling of looking at yourself in a photo and getting asked if you knew her?

My sister was quick thinking and said "No, Jodie, didn't they move away last year?" My stuttering reply of yes and the hysterical tears made grandma S usher us both around the back and inside knowing that something was very fishy...... by which time SHE had clicked as to who we were. Dear old grandpa had no idea nothing was up.... MALE! Lol.

What followed was a hazy mess of trying to get dad on the UHF (before mobile phones), ringing the police, HER screaming and banging on the front door and windows, dad and the police arriving and fighting to take her away.

It turns out she had gone to nearly all the towns in the hills distributing propaganda of our foster paretns and of my real dad who were all innocent of her lies.

This is just one of hundreds of stories to do with her. The one I remember the most clearly - but we had so many restraining orders on her that she continually broke. It wasn't so bad when we were in primary school bc it was such a tiny school that we were all either related or like family anyway.

When I got to high school it was a completely different matter. Again, the classified ads continued, the broken restraining orders, the horrible phone calls, the radio talkback, the PI's, the many many court appearances at Children's Court bc of custody etc etc etc. It honestly didn't seem to end for years. 

The whole court thing continued for ages as the matters discussed were if we remain under the Guardianship of the Minister till we were 18 or what. It seems to easy to me DER! Of COURSE we couldn't go back to her. And once that was settled, it became about the abuse. There were hearing after hearing after hearing. A trial date was set but for some reason that I have no idea about, the trial against her never went ahead. One thing I know, she rarely showed up to actually attend court. The way it usually worked (from my memory) is that she would come, make a massive scene, get carted away and then court would proceed.... or get adjourned.... again and again and again.

Finally, things settled down.... a little, but I don't know what caused that. Maybe she finally accept that us kids made our OWN decision that we didn't want anything to do with her. She always believed (and still does to this day) that we were brain washed and have had false memories implanted and that is why we don't/didn't want to know her and that deep down we want to be with HER. Hmmm! You would have thought she got the hint. But even nowdays she believes I am stopping her from having contact with Mike. 

Yeah, whatever!!!!

Now days I have very very occasional contact with her. Mike and Bella want NOTHING to do with her. Mike just wants to live his life and move on. But my sister - well, she lives in her bitterness. It's such a sad thing to watch as you see that bitterness result in the same cycle of parenting. Not the same abuse, but abuse all the same. As for me, well, I never wanted contact either but I try to see it from God's perspective. 

I have minimal contact with her bc I believe that no matter what you have done, to have 4 children taken away from you, it must be devastating - no matter how twisted your thinking. So I very occasionally text her or call or something - partly from 'daughter-duty', partly bc I think God will honour my effort. The problem with my contact with her is that it encourages her to continue with the whole "I'm not guilty, you have been brainwashed, the government stole you from me" thing. And the other thing is, with every fibre of my being, I do believe she believes she never hurt us. I think she has talked herself into believing it after 35+ years. But I also look at the cycle - she was abused by her mother too. Does that excuse it? NO, it sure doesn't, but it helps me understand and see her from a different perspective.

My foster parents were pretty gold though all the harassment. They were always SOOO well known the the Adelaide Hills community and she tried very hard to tarnish their reputation. I think tho, people knew them enough to believe them when they told what kind of woman gave birth to me.

So, my darling real dad - who we had regular contact with throughout and who we adored, died from heart disease when we were 17. It was a terrible year. I was doing Year 12 and he had, in the 18months before his death, 3 heart attacks, then a stroke and then another ehart attack which eventually got him. He was only 59. It was devastating. I will never forget Mum coming in to tell me about it..... but that is a blog for another time.

Once my real dad died, it was almost like there was no one to keep my mum and dad accountable anymore. DCW/FACS/FAYS/Families SA (all the different names I've known it as - which is basically Child Welfare) were stepping back as we were about 9 months from being adults. 

In the couple years before my real dad died, things at home had become not-so-good. Us kids were growing up - but not in the way my mother wanted. All we ever heard was "You're not like MY kids". I used to think to myself... "HOW could we possibly be like ur kids - they grew up sooo sheltered. where as us.....!!!!". I always felt like I let them down bc we were so different from their own kids. So there was a LOT of conflict between my mum and me. I was always the protector of Mike - being my twin. Whenever he got into trouble I would stand up for him (as you do) and vice versa. But that would just make everything ten times worse.

My sister either got kicked out or ran away after year 12. To hear it from my mum, she ran away to be involved with all her friends who were drug addicts. To hear it from my sister, she got kicked out bc they thought she was pregnant - which she wasn't. I have no idea who to believe to this day. Maybe a bit of both????

I remember on my real dad's first birthday after he passed away, I was crying and my mum had a real go at me for being upset about him. She couldn't understand why I would be so upset. Which I couldn't understand - as she lost HER dad when she was 12. Of all people I thought she would understand. So we were actually not allowed to grieve for him - something that hit me big time in my 20's when I used to cut myself to ribbons.

I found getting my licence a massive gift from God. I was able to escape whenever I felt choked down by it all. 

Things came to a head when i was attending a church down Adelaide (what my mother was convinced was a cult - but was actually just a city Lutheran church). I had been boarding with one of the pastors and his family for a year and had just moved into a place with a friend. I had been seeing a counsellor to try and deal with the conflict between me and my mum (it was always my mother, dad was a real peace-maker - but would never dare stand up for me. She definitely wore the pants).. 

So one day in January 1998, we organised to meet at my church with my counsellor. I don't remember much about that day except for this: I was crying my eyes out and said to them "I know I have disappointed you a lot but I don't know what I have done wrong. All I know is that I love you and to me, you will always be my parents."

I said this because long long ago when we were young, they used to promise that they would be our parents for as long as we wanted. It was such a  safe secure thing knowing that they would be my parents forever - because the choice was mine and that's what I wanted.

The counsellor waited a bit after I said that before eventually asking "Do you want to say anything in response?". My mother, without a pause said in a cold hard voice "We don't love her and haven't loved her for a long time!!!!"

THAT was the day that triggered off 5 years of the most severest depression Modbury hospital at seen to that point.

After that day, I went into a dark dark time - much different to the dark days of my childhood. That was another girl entirely. But this was ME, I couldn't ignore that I was so bad that my own parents who promised they would be there forever if I wanted, were suddenly taken away  from me by one sentence.

It was horrible, cousins and aunties and uncles kind of got caught in the middle. I was so blessed that some of my extended foster family said to me "You might not be their daughter anymore, but you are still our niece". And some of those dear aunties and uncles get such delight when we pop in on the rare occasion now. I enjoy it as much as they do - they are my roots you know? And I have been just as richly blessed with some beautiful supportive cousins. Over the years tho, I have not had a lot of contact with them as I never wanted to make them choose between my mother and her kids, and me. What an unfair choice to ask them to make - so i kinda distanced myself.

However, recently we have got back in touch with one of our cousins and things are better than ever. The old friendships are still there..... and favourite cousin, you know who you are, we love you guys to bits!!!!

I think I finally accepted that I was no longer their daughter at my dad's funeral. I was utterly devastated when my father died suddenly in 2003. It was double hard in some ways bc I always had this dream that things would heal over time and I would look after them in the older years - give back to them the way they gave to me as a child. 

We were barely acknowledged in the obituary - even though we lived with them for over 17 years. It said something like "K and M fostered three children for a time". That was it!!!! We were asked one by Aunty if we could not sit in the church at his funeral as it would upset my mum. Another kick in the stomach. In the end we sat at the very back of the church. It almost killed me when I saw my immediate family walk  into that church as we were not allowed to be part of it.  My grief was completely overwhelming. Thankfully the pastor mentioned that dad loved having two sons - at least my brother was recognised - which in my book made up big time for completely ignoring ME.

At the graveside Mike was allowed to go hug our mum. Watching her hold him - or rather, he hold her was a beautiful precious memory. She might hate me but she let him be part of it in a small way. Back at the church afterwards, I was talking to my Aunty M and mum tried to brush past us at the doorway. I said hello to her and she looked in the opposite direction. That's when I knew.

My Pastor had said to me that my dad's death would either soften her or harden her heart towards me. I obviously assumed it would soften it. How wrong I was! She hated me even more - I was devastated all over again! Especially as she seemed accepting of Mike that day. That was when I knew I wasn't her daughter anymore... as if I needed more proof!!!!

Ever since all this stuff with mothers and fathers, I have always been on the perpetual search to find a mother and father who would actually want me. I thought I had found them too. Until two years ago and after a 16 year friendship this family who had 'adopted' me turned on me too. So I feel like I have lost three sets of parents. Three fathers who I loved to death. Three mothers who I feel have screwed me over royally.

And why is it, the two paprents who actually lvoed me - the guys, are the ones who died, but the ones who have hurt me so bad are the ones who live? All I can think of is that it's so God can continue to teach me and grow my character. But geee.....

....That is why Mother's Day is hard for me!

There is another side to Mother's Day for me that I find almost as painful. Being childless.

When I was a young-in getting in the wood after school, I used to day dream that I would find a baby out in the paddock. I would imagine hearing it cry and I running to find it and look after it. It was my greatest and only dream as a child. I was all of 7!

 I believe I was born to be a mother. An old friend of mine prophesied over me a few years ago. part of that prophesy was that I was already a mother - I just hadn't had children yet. Whether that is true or not, Im not sure. But I know that I have looked after a myriad of children. I was a major carer for my gorgeous 5 year old niece for the whole of her life until February when my sister decided to follow her pattern and cut me out of their lives. I worry about her as I see the effects of mental and emotional abuse in that 5 year old and her big brother.

I absolutely adore my best friend's 4 kids. I am Godmother to one of them which is a huge honour - and I completely dote on all 4 of them.

I was with someone a while back and we had all sorts of plans where kids were concerned.... until I realised he was so emotionally immature there was NO way I could ever be with him, let alone have kids with him.

One of my lifelong dreams has been to foster kids - give back to some other kids the chances that being in foster care gave me. Because even though there were bad times, there were good times too. For all I know, if my parents hadn't taken me in, I could easily be dead right now - knowing the kind of childhood my sister (who stayed with my real mother till she was 11) had at the hands of our real mother. I can't do this yet as I don't think Im financially stable enough.... but also, i would prefer to do it with a partner... and right now there are no guys on the horizon.

Tiny pieces of me die inside when I hear of friends who have become pregnant. Especially when some of them are sooo young! 

One good thing about me is that I can still rejoice with people who are pregnant - any life in my books is exciting and wonderful and new. 

I take a lot of joy from watching them play at church, spending time with little ones, playing, reading making things with them. Being there for teenagers, listening, hugging, hanging out etc.

But in the last year or so, I also feel a bit of me wilting with each baby announcement. Time ticks by faster and faster each year. And each year, that mother-yearning grows bigger and bigger inside of me so that it's at the point where it aches so bad every single day and the consciousness that time (and my age) is slipping by too quickly does not get missed by me either.

According to my sister, when I was with my partner, I mothered HIM half the time. I remember last mother's day when she actually told me "Happy Mother's Day". At my question she replied that not only am I a mother for Mike in many respects, but also for T - the bf! I was kinda shocked but on reflection I realised she had nailed it exactly!!!! (If u feel you have to mother ur partner - that is not a good thing. Don't worry tho, he's not around anymore).

Yesterday, a dear friend wrote on my FB wall: HAPPY Mothers day Linda. Remember you are a mother to many. People look up to you as a motherly figure in their lives. The impact you have on people is incredibly inspiring and your hugs make me happy.

It made me realise that I have some very perceptive friends who can read my wants and desires more than I thought. And she is right (she's such a good egg that friend). When I thought about it, I guess I do mother people a lot. But it helped me feel good too, that even if Im not a mother in the normal sense of the word, I still do a lot of the jobs that mothers do.

It'll do for now. ;)

Last night when I was working we were talking about babies who are born and addicted to drugs. It has opened up a new idea to me that I'm seriously considering. Those babies have no one to give them the love that is so vital at that early stage of life. Nurses and drs can only do so much cuddling and holding. Maybe if I volunteer with those babies, I can help fill a void in my own life while also giving that child the love that they need to overcome addiction, develop and grow. I am even thinking of seeing if Mike wants to do it with me - as the whole wanting kids thing is getting bigger for him too.

Part of the reason why I wanted to work with kids - and why this new job is so awesome, is that in my thinking, if I can't have kids yet, and I can't foster yet, maybe if I can work with those troubled kids/foster kids, I can still give back.... until I am able to foster. So in some ways I am beginning to fulfil my dream - not in a way I planned, but it's helping in a small way to fill that hole in my heart. And I heart to see these teen kids learn to trust, break down the barriers and grow. This job is perfect for me in that respect!!!!

And contrary to popular thinking, I am probably a better listener than talker, lmao!!!!

Oh and before I go, I just want to make one clear. I LOVE it when my friends have kids. While there is a part of me that hurts deep down, I completely and genuinely rejoice in the new life coming into a family. 

I know that I still get to cuddle them, play with them, teach them, watch them grow and change and develop into the little people God made them to be. I take *such* joy see each new achievement and milestone, and the fact I can share in their lives is a beautiful wonderful gift that their parents give me. I know my life is so much brighter because of  the laughs I get nowdays from my rascally little godson and his siblings. 

Children are such precious gifts from our God and Im so thankful He made humans begin life as helpless little babies

So yeah, Mother's Day is such a mixed bag of emotions for me. A sad, hurtful, angry, questioning, aching, joyful, bittersweet, thankful day. 

It's a day where I really enjoy hearing the stories of my friend's kids and what they have done to make their mother's day special but I don't enjoy the massive focus on it at church, on TV, at the shops etc. I *hate* the focus that FB (which I live on) puts on it. (No one in particular, just the 50,000 posts that float from one profile to another). 

I understand it all, just personally, I don't like it. 

It's why I usually don't go anywhere on Mother's Day. It's hard because all my friends are spending the day with their mothers so there is noone to hang out with to distract me. It's a day that is definitely special and I am so thankful they have mothers to spend the day with. It's just hard when you don't have one. 

I know a few friends who are experiencing their first Mother's Day without their mother bc she has passed away. My heart aches for them. I wish I could pluck her from heaven and bring her down here just for the day.

I wish that there was a way, that when everyone is celebrating with their families, I could somehow fill the void in every person's heart who is missing something. 

The void of being childless - due to being unable to have children, due to child/infant death.

The void of not having a mother - due to death or other kinds of loss.

The void of having a mother, but one that is shut down emotionally and who does not possess the capacity to love and be a mother in every sense of the word.

I wish I could give all those people the feeling of love, comfort, security and identity that comes with having a mum.

To be honest, I just wish that it was a bit of a non-event that I didn't have to experience every year!

I hope that whatever you did today, it was a day where you felt love from someone - whether you are a mother or a father, a daughter or a son! Don't forget that even if you have no family, you are still a son or daughter of the Heavenly Father and he loves you and wants to help fill that void.

L xoxo

Disclaimer: I didn't share the things about my parents to diss them, put them down or to make you think badly of them. That thought never entered my head. They are not bad people. They have not had some of the opportunities that I have had to grow in self-development and vice versa. They have just grown up and been taught about life differently to me.

I shared these things so that you can understand where I am coming from in the present day. 

I still love each of those parents, no matter how awful my relationship with them has been. It's hard to love when you have been badly burnt but I truly believe God has given me what I call a God-Love for people - yes, even those who hurt me. 

It's a love that superceeds the human ability to love. There is no way I could continue to love those people in my own human weakness. It is a love that only comes from God. A special gift from him to me. It allows me to intercede for other people. It allows me to be such a good mentor/worker. It gives me the compassion to deal with the things I have had to go through in order to help others.
Sometimes I wish I didn't feel that love as it complicates things..... but ultimately, I am glad I have this gift!

So if you contemplate this blog in the future, just remember, Im not out to hurt people, I share what I share so that you can understand ME and my views better. 

Catch ya xo

Doin' It For the Kids - Nunga Style!

So, last night was my first ever shift of street work. It is an option I can take with my mentoring job - if I am interested.... which of course I AM!!!!

So I arrived at MAYFS (my workplace) last night at 9.50pm and met up with my partner for the night, "D". Even though I had read the processes and policies for what happens on streetwork, nothing really prepares you for it. The best way to learn is to jump right in!

So what is the main point of streetwork? The concept is to pick up aboriginal (aka Nunga, pronounced Nung-ga) kids who are in the city after dark on Friday and Saturday nights. They are 18 years old and under and we take them home in our van. Making sure they get home and inside safely is obviously a priority. 

The first thing we did was a car patrol of Hindley Street. Driving slowly up the street looking for kids who might need a ride. As we got into the city around 10.30pm kids were sooo not ready to go home - and we really found none anywhere, so then we parked outside Parliament House. We have a pass that allows us to park literally anywhere (almost) and the kids know that the car is often parked in this spot - so it's good for them to congregate there when they need a ride. They also know a few other places they can go when needing a ride - like the cop shop on Hindley for example.

After parking, we did a foot patrol through the railway station on North Terrace (for u NON-Adelaidians, this is the main train station in RAdelaide) and waited for the last train to come in then headed down to the skate park and back up to the car. All the time casually looking for kids..... and to keep warm and pass the time, lol.

It was still early at 11pm so we did a car patrol of the river - taking in Elder and Bonython Parks. Did u know there is this way cool pathway that u can drive on that goes right alongside the river, down under the Morphett St bridge and out into Bonython Park, behind the Police Barracks? I had no idea it was there OR how long it was. I think u can only do it if you have the 'free pass/access all areas pass'. Definitely made for an interesting drive..... but still no kids at this stage.

After that we had to go check in at "The Hub". I'm still a little unsure of who The Hub is actually run by - whether it's the Hindley St Police Station, or if it's a collective of the different services that do street work on weekends. The point of the Hub is that it is a place where we - the workers, can go for coffee, munchies, to sit and wait for phone calls, do paperwork, etc. There is a worker on (but not sure who they are with) who takes phone calls from the cop shop and other workers of kids needing to be picked up and she then passes on to the appropriate service and we go pick them up. The Hub is also a place where we sign in pretty early on in the shift - that way they know who (from Panyappi - my programme) is on and our contact numbers. Important so we can be contacted for pick ups.

We were only at the Hub for about 10min - enough for me to make my first coffee when we got a call out (spills coffee in car, lol). Two young people at the train station. We picked them up and took them home. However bc these kids were only 13years old, there is a whole extra set of policies we have to follow - basically for anyone 14 years and under.

We just got back to the Hub and got another call out - to the cop shop. However the young person had disappeared by the time we got there which is apparently quite normal. So we spent half an hour on the street talking with some workers from other agencies. We found the young person who wanted the ride, took them home and went back to the Hub for another pick up.

Only thing is, that third pick up was actually the same kids from the first pick up. Somehow, they had walked back into the city and were now genuinely ready to go home. The night ended after taking these ones home. 

So I wanna just talk about a couple things after my exciting, very different... and relatively cold night...

The coolest thing that I never knew was that there is a pretty big team of different agencies including government who are out patrolling our city streets on weekend nights - Fridays and Saturdays. Who knew????

I was really impressed as I had no idea people who went partying were so well looked after. Who is out there fighting the good fight against alcohol, drugs, etc???????

Firstly, there is us of course - Panyappi which is part of MAYFS (Metropolitan Aboriginal Youth and Family Service, http://www.healthinfonet.ecu.edu.au/key-resources/programs-projects?pid=164). We look after the Nunga kids. All young people under the age of 18 know that we are there to take them home when they are ready - whether drunk, broke or whatever else. It's definitely a safe option. We work from 10pm to 4am.

Then there is Kumangka. They deal with aboriginal young people who are over the age of 18.

There is Youthbeat, Youth Encounter (green team, red team), Mission Australia (who go home at 1am) and Maps. Im not entirely sure yet what group of people all of these service - but I do know Maps are for non-indigenous people over 18y/o - and pretty sure Youthbeat and Youth Encounter do the under 'white' 18's. You can see that all ages are definitely covered. 

I was staggered at the people involved in keeping our city streets safe - and really impressed. There seems to be a real camaraderie between workers - but as they are often working together, passing on information etc it's no surprise - we are all out there for the same purpose. To keep people safe and get them home in one piece.

At one point when we were in the Hub, we also had a visit from Edge Church - who were so lovely and brought us not only hot 'real' cappuccinos, but hot toasted cheese and tomato sangers. Was so nice to have something to eat at 1.30 in the morning - and they were so lovely. 

The one thing about my shift that really touched me was the ages of some of the young people out on the streets. As young as 8 or 9. If we pick up young kids (under 14) there are definitely policies that we have to follow to make sure they are safe if we take them home. There is also a lot of follow up on Mondays - for all the kids we take home.  

I said to D that I couldn't understand why kids would wanna go into town when they are clearly well underage and there is nothing for them to do. One reply that came back to me was "it's part of the culture - aboriginal kids just walk, walk everywhere". My brother is a testament to that one, lol. 

But I also answered my own question later in the night when I was reflecting on myself as a young person - and how when I finally got my P's and a lot of courage, we thought it was the most dangerous and exciting thing to drive down Hindley Street at 10pm at night. (Oh dear, shakes head!). Hindley Street is Adelaide's version of Kings Cross.... but on a much smaller scale.  

But other reasons why kids go out is that they don't want to be home - a lot of the kids we find, are out there bc their home life is not so great and you will do anything to get outa there. Others sneak out of the house and then it becomes a tussle between a relationship of trust with the young person - or following procedures. One drop off last night was to a relative's home. And bc the person has snuck out, they didn't want us to drop them off at home but down the street. The problem with that is that they were under 14 y/o - so we were obligated to knock on the door to let the parents know. The problem here is - those kids had never used our service before even though they were known to workers. It's was the first time they had used the service - which shows some trust in US, but then they ask you to let them sneak inside. Do you follow procedure or do you keep that trust with the kids. It's a tricky minefield to walk. Those two kids were our third drop off as well as our first.

D told me that there was one time where he had to take the same car load of kids home THREE times in a shift - bc they just kept coming back out. In fact, they would often beat him back to the city. The question that arises is why bother taking them home?????

One thing that D told me last night was that every weekend there is always a slow night and a busy night - apparently last night was slow - looked pretty busy to me tho, lol. SO I guess tonight will really be my baptism of fire, lol.

Where Have I Beeeeen????

Hey friends and others,


It's been absolutely forever since I last posted on here. I have intended to many many times, but life always gets in the way you know?


So since we last talked, many things have happened....I have cut contact with a lot of unhealthy people in my life meaning that my friendship circle had diminished a LOT! It's been a really tough journey but I am so thankful for the friends that I have been making since cutting loose the 'weeds'.


The friends I have now and are continuing to make are so much more to me than any of those who were unhealthy. They better me as a person, they hold me accountable, they give support, laughs, encouragement, affirmation and so much love. I feel like I am thriving with these beautiful flowers who encourage ME to keep blooming. The weeds? Well, I miss some of them, but I don't miss the choking horrible feelings they gave me, I don't miss the way they wud constantly kick me into the dirt, and every time I miss them, I remind myself of the kind of people they are in comparison to my lovely new friends - and when you look at it that way, you CAN'T compare them!!!!


I have become really involved at the scrapbooking shop near me (although unfortunately have now moved a little further away). The shop? Paper Flourish. www.paperflourish.com.au - well worth a look!!!! I have been learning all sorts of interesting, creative and somewhat messy things at some of the many classes I attend. It has allowed me to make and create some beautiful pieces of art that I am really proud of. I've enjoyed challenging myself with new techniques etc - esp with a limited budget and seeing my learned knowledge come forth on the paper.


I have also made some very dear friends, which is now half the reason I GO to the classes. My life has definitely become fuller thanks to Tracey and the team at Paper Flourish which is more than a craft shop - it really IS a community..... if u have Facebook, go find them there.
Through PF, I have also made a friend who owns the beautiful wonderful world called Cake Studio! Walk in the door and you enter the most amazing, sugary, colourful scrapping for cakes!!!!!!


Again, check Vanessa and co out on FB under Cake Studio. Well worth visiting her shop. I plan to do some accredited courses through my lovely new friend this year - can not wait!!!!


Finished with the plugging!!!!....


So what else has been happening? My brother and I moved house! THAT was an event and a half. With not a huge amount of help (except a few dear ppl) we moved house - but it took 8 days to get the job finished as it was mostly just the two of us and our little Barina. Took forever taking three or four boxes at a time, but we got there in the end.


We asked God for what we wanted in a house - it had to have three bedrooms, or two bedrooms and two living spaces, be cat friendly, have a/c, be relatively close to our new church, and be single story. Well, all I can say is that when you ask, God listens.... BIG time!
We ended up with all of this and more! As a result of God answering us yet again, I now have my very own scrapping room which I am slowly decorating and setting up to my liking. Mike has his own games room (third bedroom) - complete with a spider man blind which all the little kids that visit absolutely LOVE! (I think the big kids do tooo). We DO have two living spaces as well as a powered double carport, powered shed, decent backyard where we hope to have a veggie patch..... need I go on???? Oh one really cool thing is that we also have remote controls for our bedroom lights/fans. It's so choice. No more getting snuggly into bed and then remembering to switch off the light. So long as the remote is handy, Im home and hosed!!!!
I forgot to mention the coolest part of all this - it is exactly 1.3km from our new church home and almost as close to some of our new church and scrapping friends.


So if people think that God never listens or answers.... He does, it just requires patience, obedience and actually asking Him!!!!


Another exciting event in the life of our home is that my cat Dougie had two litters of kittens - not planned. The first lot were born in early October. She had three very gorgeous little ones. My nephew Jack and I actually videoed the second baby being born which was breath-taking. I don't care who you are, watching the miracle of life where human or animal is being born is incredible and again makes you wonder at the power of our almighty God!


We got two little boys and a girl out of that litter. They all went to wonderful homes - the little fellas going together - which is great bc they will grow up together.
Our second litter resulted in 4 kittens and one stillbirth. Again, beautiful little creatures. All girls. All very different to each other and the first litter. We were blessed to have our Mandii from paper Flourish take two of the little ratbags so again, they can grow up together. My dearest friend Michelle's parents took another of them (my favourite, Panther) for their son's birthday. That just leaves one little black Charlie left. We haven't actively looked for a home for her and the other day a friend of ours convinced me - in front of Mike and a few others, to keep it - unless someone randomly asks for a kitten.


So Charlie is one of the family .... for now! And boy does she love it. She goes completely skitz all over the place and we laugh at her soooo much. Thankfully we have sucha  l.arge house that it doesnt matter, lol. I will have to work out how to upload some photos of our kitties.


What else is happening.... let's see..... oh yes, I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


What's that you say? You didn't hear me?????? I got a job and it's soooooo exciting.
I am now officially a government employee! It's just so exciting. My job is with MAYFS (Metropolitan Aboriginal Youth and Family Service) which is part of what used to be Families SA but now comes under the banner of the Dep of Communities and Social Inclusion. My role is that of a mentor to kids between the ages of 10 and 18, who are either under the guardianship of the minister or in the justice system. Something totally new for me but Im excited by the challenge.... and the chance to hopefully touch these young people's lives in a positive way. It is only casual part time so far - but I did two days helping out on the holiday programme which was one of the best experiences of my recent years. Im looking forward to being involved in that again next holidays.


Another component of my job (if I want to do it, which of course I'm at least gonna try), is streetwork. I have my first shifts this weekend. Im a little nervous as I don't know how my body will cope with the extreme cold of winter, walking the streets of the CBD in the middle of the night. The job involves picking up the nunga kids who are out partying/doing whatever in the city and taking them home so they are safe. It's from 10pm to 4am.... so it will be interesting to see how it goes. I can.NOT.wait!!!!!!!!


Stuff has been happening for my brother spiritually too - he is growing so much and has had some incredible opportunities. He is going to a conference interstate soon with some of our cousins - which is just awesome. Im so excited and proud of him. All of this helped so much by our new church family, Roger, Kynan, John, Daniel, Kim, Dawnie etc plus Bushed Blokes and our cousins Elden, Jake and Charlie. He is doing just brilliantly.


He also got his L's late last year so he has taken control of the car. And I must admit, while he killed the gears for ages (we have a manual) about two weeks ago it just all clicked for him and now I am so confident in his abilities that I don't have to watch over him scrutinising every single thing he does.


In fact on Saturday night, Mike, myself and a couple friends - Sandy and Katelyn, went for a midnight 3 hr drive all over Radelaide! What a great chance for Mike to practice driving at night. It wasn't' going to be 3 hrs... but he was doing just so well that he kept driving, and driving.... and driving. I am so incredibly proud of him.


In fact, not just where his driving is concerned. My brother is working so hard at bettering his life and I'm so excited and proud of him in every way a sister and twin could possibly be.


Well, it's now after midnight and I have a busy morning tomorrow so really shud sign off. Ill be back soon - much sooner than last time.


Have a good one
xo