When Friends Go Weird

This is a hard post to write. It is one I have done a lot of reflecting on. At the back end of a tumultuous year like no other in my lifetime of 37 years, it seemed appropriate to post it now. As much as I'd like to believe it, I doubt when the clock clicks over to 2021 that these problems will magically disappear.

As fear of COVID-19 gripped the world, one of the repercussions has been the rise of conspiracy theories. These have always been around, but now social media, anxiety, and an increasingly unstable world have seen them gain new followers - ones who I would previously have never believed would have become entangled in things like this. I have at times felt devastated as it became glaringly obvious on Facebook that more and more friends had 'gone down the rabbit hole', and no amount of reasoning would convince them it was a terrible mistake. Suddenly anyone not with them was against them - we were 'living in fear', 'enslaved to the government', and needed to 'wake up'. COVID didn't exist, or at least was a lot less dangerous than the media was reporting. We were going to be forcibly vaccinated by Bill Gates and microchipped. The government was putting fluoride in our drinking water to damage our 'third eye' and make us docile and obedient. We shouldn't be wearing masks or staying in our homes. It was all part of a government plan to turn Australia into a dictatorship.

I was more scared of these people, my friends, than I was of the virus.

How was a longstanding friendship going to survive these bizarre beliefs? When lockdown ended and we could meet in person again, would I have to endure long-winded rants of how I was a sheep and needed to be 'woke'? Would every topic suddenly become an elephant in the room?

The scary thing was that some people were not just saying they believed these things, they were actively changing their lifestyle in accordance - in ways I could never imagined some people would have just a year earlier. This included no longer vaccinating their kids, planning to homeschool (presumably because the school wouldn't enrol their kids if they were unvaccinated), buying expensive water filters so they wouldn't have to drink tap water.

But then I started to consider how it must have looked to my non-Christian friends and family when I became a Christian. I know for a fact that many of them thought I'd become 'weird', that they were worried I'd been sucked into a cult, that I was living out my faith in big life decisions, rather than it being a passing fad. They must have been scared, they must have thought they'd lost me, they must have wondered if they could ever have a normal relationship with me again, they must have worried I'd bash them over the head with my Bible at every opportunity.

Maybe all this conspiracy theory stuff will be a fad for some friends. I truly hope so. I was talking to a good friend of mine who is a nurse in mental health, and she thinks the anxiety of being in social isolation has messed with people's minds. I'm inclined to agree. I also know that some people who are really into conspiracy theories also have bipolar disorder and, because of their beliefs regarding health, often refuse to take the proper medication for it.

I've also realised that rather than running in fear from some people because of their passion and outspokenness, I could use these opportunities to speak about Jesus. If they want a platform to speak about their great love, then they cannot refuse me the chance to respectfully speak about mine. Then I pray they will know what true freedom is, that trusting God in all things, means you are not living in fear.

2019: The Grieved Bystander

I’ve popped in to type a rare blog post as the final hours of 2019 ebb away.

This year has been hard. While nothing absolutely terrible has happened to me and my immediate family, it has been a year where my heart has been heavy. Sad circumstances and change have hit those I care about hard, and I’ve felt their pain. Sometimes I think I’ve felt more pain than they have. While I’ve grieved over the bad choices I’ve witnessed others making, they’ve seemingly skipped along, thinking that they’ve made wonderful decisions.

There have been more separations and divorces than I can count. Some have been Christian couples. The family breakdowns have hit my town hard as the wives have left with the children to (usually) head to Perth. This has meant less kids at the school and a loss of friends/acquaintances. One of Rory’s besties is one of these, but Rory has taken it pretty well. I don’t know why, but divorce really affects me emotionally (my parents have been married for 45 years, so it's not that I'm from a broken home). I think I was more desensitised to it when I was younger.

We lost Duncan’s cousin’s husband and a friend who used to go to our church – both to cancer. They both trusted the Lord and their witness in their final days was a great encouragement. I hadn’t been to a funeral for ages, yet went to two within eight days, both just before Christmas.

I’ve witnessed God’s amazing hand in bringing a couple of young adults to faith this year – one with no church background whatsoever, who literally found the pastor’s phone number and decided to come along. It is an absolute joy to see these two young women worshipping God joyfully each Sunday, and it is an enormous encouragement to see how they have already made some hard decisions in what needs to be put off in their lives in order to live for Him. Sadly, for one that comes to the Lord, another falls away. It has grieved me that several people I knew in Perth no longer follow Jesus, either that or I have some grave fears for them (judging by some of their posts on Facebook). When people say, “I’m a new person,” or “I’m not that person anymore”, or “I think differently about things now,” coupled with other things they’ve been posting, it is often a cause for alarm.

There have been some dramas with other relationships and I have put my foot down this year, no longer willing to be a door mat and pushed around. For years, it seemed people think Duncan and I will constantly adjust our plans, especially concerning kids’ routines, to suit them (and then change their plans again and again and expect us to comply) and I won’t. I don’t regret it; it’s been a year of incredible freedom in that regard, but not without friction and grief.

My writing seems to be going nowhere and, like last year, I have felt despondent over whether it is what God would have me do. My novel was sent out, but I heard nothing back. I’m currently doing another full edit to send it out again. I’ve entered this writing competition every month this year, bar one, and have failed to make the short list. I want to give up, but a small determined part of me won’t quit.

My battle with PMDD has lingered on this year with no cure in sight. I cannot take the one thing that could ‘fix’ the symptoms as it would put me at risk of a stroke. So, it seems I just have to battle on and face menopause later on with nothing (that works) to give any relief.

There have been highlights. Our family trip to Exmouth in July/August (must blog about that) was wonderful as I got to see my cousin and her family for the first time since October 2010. It was the first time she’d met my children. I joined a new Bible study group this year, made up of women from my church. It was an absolute delight meeting with women of different ages and stages and getting to know them better. We went into recess for harvest, but hopefully we can meet again in 2020. I’ve been doing Zumba every Tuesday morning and it was so good exercising in such a supportive environment. We all have coffee together afterwards and it’s organised upfront and openly by the instructor; no secret cliques sneaking away together. Everyone is invited and there is no bitching. It’s great!

Although 2019 has at times felt boring and dull, that I was just plodding along doing the day-to-day stuff, it has given me a shake up in that I’ve been forced to question who or what my security is found in. Is it when things are going smoothly, or when everyone around me is well and happy? Or is it in my great God, who holds the world in the palm of His hand. I’m praying the ‘shake-ups’ so many people have been through this year will bring to Him and not further from Him.

Wedding 1 2018

On Saturday 5th May, we attended the lovely and very joyful wedding of Bethany and Joel in Albany. Both the ceremony and the reception were on a farm in a shed that has been specifically converted and hired out for weddings. Beth went to our church until recently, and she was an absolute godsend last year after my surgery. She stayed at our house several nights a week, helped with the boys, drove me to town, and was fabulous company.

It was just an all round beautiful day.

Harmony

It was an odd type of concert to be going to - Eskimo Joe teaming up with the WA Symphony Orchestra.  The result? A night of absolutely amazing music at the Perth Concert Hall last month.

There were two types of people in the audience - those (like my friend Sarah and I) who would go to see Eskimo Joe and those who would see WASO. I think everyone would have come away appreciating both types of music.

The Pendulum: Social Media and Me

I'm in a bit of a quandary about my usage of social media at the moment, so I'm wondering what others think about this?

Do you just post whatever interests you on social media?  Or do you 'tone it down' so your 'friends' don't become annoyed or offended?

I'm usually a firm adherer to the rule that your blog, your Facebook page etc. is YOUR chunk of cyberspace, and how you express yourself is up to you.  I'm not advocating ungodliness here, rather that if you want to post one hundred photos of your cat, or share articles about gun control, or funny memes, then it's YOUR page to do it on.  If someone doesn't like it....well....they need to suck it up.

But lately I've noticed that the trend to unfriend over the slightest thing is growing.  People being unfriended because they post too many photos of their kids, or are honest about their fight against depression, pose for too many selfies, are too political, share too much about their weight loss journey.  It's not only a difference of opinion that's causing the unfriending, but a difference of interests.  I'm sick of the way you post about motorbikes all the time, so I'm ending the online friendship.

As much as people might say unfriending is 'not personal', it IS personal.  It is a rejection in some way, and sometimes over the pettiest of reasons. So many people seem determined to only have a friends list who affirms their opinions and shares every interest.

I don't want to post deeply sordid things, but I do want to share articles and quotes that I am passionate about.  I don't want other mums to feel like they're the only ones struggling.  But I've been a victim of unfriending because people simply don't like what I post. These aren't people I don't see anymore; these people I see regularly.

I don't want to bow to people pleasing, but if the whole point of social media is to be social, should we care what others think, to an extent?

So, has someone's rejection of your online presence made you reconsider what you post?

Or do you continue to post what you want, saying it's my way or the highway?

Sometimes You Just Have To Cry

Sometimes crying makes you feel better.

On Friday, I ended up in the emergency department in Albany hospital. The boys and I had been staying with my parents for a few days in the school holidays.  I woke up with shocking abdominal pain.  It started between my chest and my belly button, went through to my back, and then up to my chest, and I started wondering if I was having a heart attack.  The pain was second only to my labour with Flynn.  I couldn't keep still and couldn't stop crying out in agony. 

What really distressed me was not the pain...it was the reaction of my own parents.  They literally didn't care.  My dad yelled at me to stop disturbing everyone.  He told me to take Panadol, put a heat pack on and be quiet.  My mum told me I was scaring the kids (I wasn't; they were totally distracted by the TV) and that I need to learn self-control and be quiet in pain.  I yelled at her furiously, asking if she'd been quiet when she'd hurt her back nine years ago and ended up in hospital for a week.  My dad told me he'd take me to the hospital as long as it didn't make him late for work.

What the heck?!?  They are not usually this horrible and I'm still hurting from it.  I confronted them later, telling them how much their attitude hurt me, that I was in a lot of pain and couldn't just be quiet because it was inconvenient for them.  But they still don't get it.

Then today I was in tears because a friend of mine unfriended me on Facebook.  If it was someone from high school that I hadn't seen since then, and had no 'real life' relationship with, I wouldn't care.  But this friend is someone I see regularly, am on good terms with (or so I thought), can talk about all sorts of stuff with, and Rory is best friends with her son.  I asked her, via private message, why she unfriended me and said I was sorry if I'd inadvertently hurt her.  She said she didn't agree with some of the stuff I posted on Facebook, but that we could still be friends in real life.  I asked her if she could clarify what sort of things she disagreed with and she said she'd tell me in person sometime (I saw that she'd also unfriended Duncan and another mutual friend).  Then, she messaged me this evening, explaining that she finds it too overwhelming reading about friends suffering (like when I posted about my abdominal pain).  I'm glad we have sorted it out, but the whole afternoon has left me somewhat drained and emotionally fragile. (I will do another post on the nature of real life/online friendships later, as it is a subject that has often fascinated and perplexed me.)

Just when I thought I'd been doing so well recently, too.

Side note: I am fine, physically.  The hospital did tests and an ultrasound, but all were clear.  It is not related to my recent surgery.  They thought it might be my gallbladder, but it doesn't seem to be.  After some heavy duty painkillers, which left me very drowsy, I was home a few hours later, and the pain has not returned since.

Related posts:
Facebook 'Friends'

I Can't Call Him 'Bubba Flynn' Anymore

Flynn turned two last Saturday, the 23rd September.  Although he's been 'toddling' for 10 months now, I guess his second birthday also officially marks toddlerhood and the 'terrible twos' (the 'terrible ones' have been bad enough).

We headed to Perth for the long weekend, but, sadly, his birthday wasn't all that happy.  He's been suffering from an ear infection (he's had a fair few) for the past couple of weeks and will be requiring grommets.  His birthday involved screaming, a visit to the doctor, and yet another lot of antibiotics.

All that aside, I can scarcely believe it was two years ago I met him and saw his red hair for the first time, and remarked, "Hello, Bubba.  Where did you come from?"

I love him so much!

Peppa Pig cake he took to daycare on the Monday before his birthday.
Or maybe it's George...not sure (Duncan said it can be a 'gender-
neutral pig').

He didn't want his photo taken.

Nope, still not keen on a photo.

We had a small party for him in Perth.  He also loves dinosaurs,
so I made this cake. I got the idea from here.

The 13th March Strikes Again

Two years ago, I blogged about how I was beginning to think the 13th March was a cursed date for me, and last year I was pleased to report that the 13th March 2016 was a normal day.

Unfortunately this year the date was tinged with sadness.

On Friday 10th March, I received a text message from my dad letting me know he'd read in the death notices in the paper that a childhood friend of mine had passed away.  Jane and I went to school together from kindergarten (what is now pre-primary) to Year 12, but we'd lost touch after school finished.  I was numb with shock after receiving the news.  As more of our old school friends became aware of her death, I found out she had had cancer.  But, after talking to a few old friends via Facebook, it appeared that all of us had lost touch with her.  We were all shocked and upset, sharing photos of the 'old days' with Jane and remembering times we'd spent with her.

The 13th March was her funeral.  I wish I could have got to Perth for it.

Joshua's 4th Birthday

I got to spend an afternoon with my biggest little man in December.  Rory was invited to his friend Joshua's 4th birthday party at the indoor play centre in Albany, so I took him, while my mum looked after Flynn.

He had a ball going down a huge inflatable slide, and I was so proud of him for being so brave.  The party was a smorgasboard of all of his favourite foods - chicken nuggets, chips, sausage rolls, fairy bread, and a delicious icecream cake.

I'm all for outsourcing kids' birthday parties - it makes it easier for parents who are time-poor, or aren't gifted in the areas of cake decorating.

Four

I can still remember what it was like having skin-to-skin cuddles with him when he was born.  Now my big boy Rory turned four yesterday!

We celebrated his birthday early by having a party at our place last Saturday.  His last two birthday parties have been in Perth, because we were up there for other things.  This time, it was nice to celebrate with his local (and some visiting) friends. Since it was going to be 35C, I had organised for it to be a morning of water play.  Then it turned into a mud fest.  It's amazing how the simple things can keep kids amused for hours.

A Thomas-themed party for a Thomas-mad little boy.

These things were great shelter from the hot, hot sun.

Mmm Cheezels

Bubbles are always a winner.

Mud, glorious mud.

This was my first attempt at using fondant.  I'm not a baker and it's

definitely not perfect, but I'm happy with my effort.  Rory loved it,

so that's all that matters.

Nice to have a family photo.

Flynn loves balloons.

We came up to Perth on Tuesday as I have a week's worth of appointments.  Harvest was STILL going when we left (it has finished now, thankfully), so Duncan was unable to come with us.  My mum is here, helping me with the kids while I go to my appointments.

Yesterday, Rory, Flynn and I headed to the city to catch up with our friends, Sam, Aria and Boyd.  We planned to drive to Cockburn Central Park and Ride and catch the train, but there were no parking spots!  So, I tried Murdoch Park and Ride....no parking there either!  We ended up driving in (Rory took the disappointment of missing out on his first train ride very well).  I took a wrong turn, couldn't find a parking spot and ended up scraping the car on a post (thankfully it's not too bad).  What an effort and a misadventure!  I was feeling quite hot and bothered by the time we finally got to the Fire Station Museum.  The kids had a ball!

The rockclimbing wall was a hit.

Rory was stoked to sit in a real fire engine.

Fireman Rory to the rescue.

There were uniforms and hats there for the kids

to dress up in.  I dressed Firey Flynn in his fire engine
shirt for the day, then seconded him to the SES. He
was not happy.

It was way too big and heavy for him, but he
looked sooo funny toddling around in it.

Then we had lunch.  Rory loves babycinos.

He was so excited to catch up with Aria, who is also four.

Can you believe it has been four years since this precious moment?

Is 2016 Cursed?

So many people think so, mainly due to the number of celebrities who have died this year. But, in reality,  many celebrities die every year; what these people mean is that celebrities they particularly like have passed on.

Then there's been Brexit, ongoing horrors in Syria, and Donald Trump becoming the US president. Again, troubling things are constantly happening in the world. 2016 has been no exception.

For me personally, 2016 has been a horrible year. Much of what happened flowed on from 2015; while it is nice to draw a line in the sand and say a new year is a fresh start, one cannot always escape past events. This year, I have been so unwell with postnatal depression, I probably should have been hospitalised many times. I've wanted to walk away from my marriage and family, desperate to seek help in the city. Our closest mental health service is absolutely appalling. I am so glad to be rid of them.

I feel like I've achieved very little, apart from surviving. I love my little family dearly, and it devastates me that I must live with my mind and body shrouded by a dark cloud. It feels like I've spent much of 2016 struggling in my relationship with God, desperate for Him to remove this thorn from my side. But, in His kindness and mercy, we have had two wonderful live-in nannies - Jordie for seeding and Liz for harvest. If I'd been well, I'd never have had the privilege and joy of having met them.

In recent weeks I've received the news that three friends of mine are now separated from their husbands. This has affected me deeply. It seems that hearing about separation/divorce and babies dying is a big trigger for depression for me. I grieve and I pray for there to be reconciliation and change in those marriages. But I'm trying not to let it get me down.

I'm praying for a better 2017. I'm praying for Flynn to sleep, as sleep deprivation is a huge factor in my illness.

Do I think 2016 is cursed? No, but it hasn't been a good year for many people.

Bring on 2017. May it be a great adventure.

Death Day

Last Friday was a bit depressing...

We did a day trip to Perth for Duncan's uncle's funeral.  I didn't know him well, but I could see he was a kind, caring man who loved Jesus.  At his 80th over two years ago, he asked me how I was going and spoke of his own battle with depression.  I don't know too many older blokes who are open like that.

On the way to Perth I received a message from my good friend Sarah, telling me that she was going to the vet later to have her beloved ragdoll cat Mocha put down. He was almost 16 and his health was deteriorating.  Long-time readers of this blog may remember that they looked after Ebony for me for a few months before my wedding.  Ebony and Mocha's relationship was interesting, to say the least.  I mourned with her.  Mr Mochs was an absolutely beautiful cat.

Bremer Beach Babes

Every year, we try to get to Bremer Bay to go camping with friends for the Queen's Birthday long weekend at the end of September.  At this stage of life, 'camping' means paying for a ridiculously overpriced cabin.  I look forward to the day when we can actually take tents and go camping with the little fellows, and it will be more fun than stressful.

Can you see the whale?

Four-wheel driving fellows.

Flynn LOVES sand.

Dinner time in our cabin at the caravan park.

It was cold at the dunes.

My sand sculpture.  It's supposed to be a turtle (you knew
that, right? Haha)

Rory climbed to the top of this big sand dune with Duncan. He just
needed a bit of help at the last bit.  The right
side of the photo shows how far below the cars were.