Brutally Honest Facts

Since high school ended, I found myself in lots of situations I never expected to be in. Sometimes, I've felt like I'm in a prison; at other times, drifting off in space. While in this prison-space continuum, I've learnt a lot of very strange facts about life, the universe, and whatever else there is.

1. Most people don't know what they're doing. Everyone is bluffing a little bit, pretending to be a little better at what they do, a little more knowledgeable, or a little less hungover.
2. Hard work does pay off. It can also hurt you. A lot. I've been working more than full time hours for about six months now. And I've been working very, very hard every hour that I'm at work. This has put me in a very good position in some ways - I have job security, I have the adoration of my employer, I have gained a lot of really good skills and obviously I have a lot more money than I would if I wasn't working (or not working as many hours). At the same time, all this hard work and excess work has left me in a very bad way. My wellbeing and health have taken a beating from all of this, and any time I do have free from work is spent recovering - from work, and from all the ailments it inflicts. So I've learnt the hard way that, yes, hard work pays. But there is a line between working hard and killing yourself.
3. People are fickle. They come and they go. The ones that matter remain. After high school, most of my friends moved away, or simply drifted away. We all changed, and because we all headed in different directions, we lost whatever it was that held us together. We're all different people now. It can be initially distressing to go to a party with all your old school friends, and realise you don't actually get along with any of them any more. That there is nothing to talk about, and they either haven't grown up at all, when you have, or they've simply grown into something you don't really like. In the end, the people that really matter aren't lost, and if anything, losing old social connections makes room for new ones. It's tough, and it's painful, but it happens. And it's usually for the better.
4. No one is looking out for you. So, you have to look out for yourself. I'm not saying no one cares about you. Or that you should disregard the needs of those around you. What I'm saying is, at the end of the day, it is you, and only you, who is responsible for yourself. Sometimes, no one is there to look after you when you're sick, or hold you when you're breaking down. Just as we can only work so hard before crumbling, we can only give so much of ourselves before we break. You need to look after yourself first, so that you have something to give to others. It is okay, and it is normal, to look after yourself. To need space, to need "me-time", to do things that achieve nothing but spreading a smile across your face.
5. Listen to your body. Your intuition, or gut feeling, is quite probably right. This is one of my mother's mantras. It's simple but vitally important. Listen to what's going on inside yourself. I decided to really listen to my body recently after falling very ill for the fifth time this year. I've had the same symptoms and problems on and off all year, and there's only so many times I can suppress whatever's going on with a pill. I decided to stop and really listen to myself. To my body, to my mind and to my spirit. For a long time, I had intuitively known that something was wrong. But I chose to ignore this feeling, because I couldn't afford to be unwell in my fast-paced lifestyle. I decided enough was enough, and it was time to listen to that quiet little voice. I've booked an appointment with the doctor to really get to the bottom of the issue, and am planning to reduce my hours at work, as they have been a contributor to my ill health. 
6. Just do it, whatever it is. No, I don't like cleaning the house, the toilets at work, or my room. But all three need to be done, and nothing is achieved by trying to avoid them. If you don't want your housemates to kick you out, don't be a slob, and if you want a job, you will damn well clean that toilet. Do what needs to be done, whether you want to or not, and I promise you you'll feel good about it.
7. Life comes in seasons. There are winters, and they can really drag. And there's usually no one to keep you warm. There are times of drastic change, and there are times when nothing ever seems to change. Sometimes, there is no one home, and at other times your house will fill with guests. At times, the road becomes your home, and sometimes, you get stuck somewhere in suburbia. Always remember that there will be another chapter, and you do have the power to turn the page when you're ready.

I don't want a boyfriend I just want a life

Last night I saw a lot of people I hadn't seen in a very long time, and met a few new people. It was the eighteenth birthday of old friend of mine who left town earlier this year to go to uni.

I looked around at the sea of faces. Smiling faces. And then a comment was made about how "It's so amazing how everyone has a boyfriend now". I looked around again at all my friends, boyfriends hanging off each of them. Everyone looked so happy, and as though no matter how shit things were or would become, they had someone else to share it all with; someone to fall back on; or someone to cry to.

I downed Moscato with force and couldn't help but think I'd somehow pulled the short straw. My friends had either moved away to start uni or stayed in town to finish school - and despite their student-induced-poverty and constant greivances about having to study, they were all happy. 

The birthday girl's mother asked me how my love life was going. I didn't snap, and I didn't snap anyone's necks. I answered truthfully, "Nothing's really happenning". She began gathering pity, so I continued. "I was with someone at the end of last year, but he was a bit manic, so I decided I'd rather be alone. I'm so busy and I work so much I hardly notice".

The last part of my response was partly true. I was with someone, and I did call it off. But he wasn't manic, he was just wrong for me, and I'm too stubborn to make things work out with someone I don't even like much. And while I am busy and always working, it doesn't mean I don't notice there's no one there. 

I keep finding myself in tears whenever I'm physically alone somewhere. I'm unhappy. I thought stepping straight out of school and into a full-time job would be worth it. But the truth is, no amount of money is worth more than my happiness. I earn a pittance, work horrific hours, and have nothing to show for it.

It's not that I want a boyfriend. It's just that I want to have a life to live, and something or someone to call my own. I don't want to be the "workaholic" who "can't come". I want too be the life of the party - like I used to be. I want to be brimming with energy and creativity, ideas and things to say.

I feel like I've pulled the short straw and nobody else seems to care. I'm losing my friends and even myself, for minimum wage. Sometimes, you have to back out of something. You have to walk away and close a door. 

I'm at a turning point right now where it'll either get worse or it'll get better. And if it gets worse, I'll quit my job and leave. There's no shame in doing what you have to to look after yourself.

Be kind to yourself.

La Vie Boheme

Okay so it's been quite a while since I last posted on here. Nine months. I could have had a baby. I didn't. I don't have a womb. Or a girlfriend. Not that I want either.

Anyway, hello! I'm back. An awful lot has happenned over the past nine months and I don't really know where to start. I suppose the beginning?

At some point in the year I had a boyfriend. That all started and ended pretty quickly, actually. I probably shouldn't talk about it too much. He seemed sweet. But alas, that chapter has closed.

In about May I started getting involved in the local theatre. After ushering for a few shows, I heard auditions were being held for another show, "All Shook Up". At the time I was as shy as anything and didn't want to even go to the audition, let alone be in a musical. I was almost certain I couldn't sing, couldn't dance, wasn't the world's greatest actor and certainly didn't want to sing, dance and act in front of anyone I didn't have to. But I went to the audition. I did it. I'm pretty sure I turned up an hour late, even though the audition was held walking distance from my house. I'm always late to things. The epitomy of this would have to have been the time I held a barbacue down at the local beach's foreshores, and turned up 40 minutes late. I was the host. It was my barbacue. Yet I turned up 40 minutes late.

Right, the audition. So I went there and sat there shaking until the Director asked me to sing something for her. The only song I'd prepared was an excerpt of "We three Kings of Orient Are". Everyone was really shocked at how deep my voice was and didn't seem to mind that I'd sung a Christmas Carol in the middle of may.

I got into the show somehow as a member of the ensemble. I kept telling myself that I would have to let them all know that I had to leave the show as the pressure of the HSC was too strong. But I never got around to it, and along came opening night. I was running so high on adrenaline I didn't even have the chance to feel nervous or scared. Between when I auditioned for the show and the show's afterparty, I came to several epiphanies.

Anyone who knows me would be very, very sick of hearing about my "existential crises" or "sudden epiphanies". But I'm going to assume you, whoever you are, have perchanced to visit this blog for reasons dark and unknown, and as such don't mind me blabbing on.

Rehearsals started in May after the cast had been put together. I was shy and terrified of everyone and everything. My hair was auburn, and I had a boyfriend. By the time the show ended, all of that was gone. On opening night, we were all slapping each other's arses and undressing in front of each other backstage. And my hair, well, I'd dyed it black because I was sick of having to keep up the dying process. And the boyfriend, well, he was gone. It was good, in retrospect, that we parted ways. Even though I didn't really like him, I'd forced myself to believe that I did. And somehow it still hurt when it all ended. I guess being rejected isn't nice, regardless of who did the rejecting.

He might have rejected me, and other friends might have walked out or faded away from my life, but in the theatre I found sanctuary. I became eerily close to my theatre family over those few months. At one point I performed a less than sober striptease to some of the girls in the cast to Cher's "Welcome to Burlesque".

Anyway, the theatre became my home. I spent more time with the cast and crew than I did with my own friends and family, which felt like a bad thing. But then I came to the realisation that the theatre is what I love. I love performance. I love it.

It's been very difficult for me not to drop out of year twelve to become a full time vagabond. When I found out that auditions for "RENT" the musical are taking place somewhere in Sydney in October I sent off a flurry of excited emails. But then reality struck, and I realised I wouldn't be able to afford constant trips to and from Sydney, and shouldn't be traversing acrossing the country between HSC exams. And I decided I should stay here in my hometown for the rest of the year as it is my last year living here, and some people I might not see again.

Fuck, I'm going to miss everyone and everything about this town. Well, that's a lie. We have our fair share of bogans here, and much less than our fair share of excitement. But I have met the most beautiful people living here, and made connections I don't want to lose. People here have touched me on a deep level and I'm actually terrified and distraught at the thought of losing this connection. Although we all vow to stay in touch, I know that in reality only a few of us will, and the rest are doomed to drift off into the "I used to know" category.

I am truly going to miss this place. This beautiful town full of gorgeous people. It was where I grew up. It was where I first found myself. I learnt to walk, talk, sing, dance, drive and thrive here. I learnt how to be a person, how to be a friend, how to be a lover and how to embrace everything life offers with both arms. It was here that I had my first kiss, my first love. It was in this town that I discovered who I am. I discovered that I might be anybody, or somebody, and that I wasn't just nobody. I learnt to persevere, to try my hardest and to never give up. I learnt when to stop, when to let go, and when to walk away. And I know that moving to Sydney next year is something I just have to do. But I will forever hold this town and it's people close to my heart.